Last night I went out with a few friends and I saw a cute bartender…isn’t it always a cute bartender? And we chatted (begrudgingly on my part because my friends literally made me) and he mentioned me coming back today. I thought it was weird then…I thought, “What the hell…I’ll be like Hannah Horvak and I’ll go on this adventure if only for the cool story it’ll make later when I write about it.” Granted, going to talk to a cute bartender isn’t exactly equivalent to taking crack and going to a rave…but in my world it kind of is. Before I left, J told me don’t be a Hannah be a Jessa. But I don’t think I even know how to be a Jessa anymore…Jessa bails and I’m trying to learn to stick around. And as a Hannah it’s anything for a good story…because its very likely that I am the voice of my generation.
So I went, I flirted, I thought I was being pretty transparent but maybe he just wasn’t interested. Except (and yes I realize that I am ranting in true Hannah fashion, to you my nonexistent Marnie(s)) so yes, except he was totally flirting with me. And not just in a oh yeah you’re kind of cute but I have a girlfriend so I can’t really talk to you way. He was flirting in a “this is when I get off work,” “my day is better now that you’re here” kind of way. Only…he didn’t ever ask for my phone number. Which to me meant he wasn’t interested. And typically I would be okay with that, but with the mixed messages I just ended up leaving confused and a bit embarrassed.
The silver lining here is that after literally almost 2 years I feel really ready to date and enjoy the company of men. In fact I would go so far as to say I want to date. That is monumental for me. I seriously wondered when I’d feel like that again. Maybe this guy, this cute guy with tattoos and good teeth, was just a way to tempt me into making my intentions known to the universe?