(If you haven’t read the previous  entry Welcome Back to the Land of the Living then I recommend starting there as this entry is Part II of that story…)

Text Received: Hey.

(Looking across the bar, meeting eyes and smiling) Text Sent: Hi.

About this point the birthday girl leaned over and, pulling out her phone, was like “Hey – So, um I took a picture of you talking to that guy and sent it to Johnna (our friend who was home sick and couldn’t make it that night, this just goes to show what big news it was that Mopey McMoperson was finally coming back to the land of the living AND trying to roll some game at a bar… albeit somewhat awkwardly…) and it turns out she TOTALLY knows him!! How crazy is that???”

Whoa. Yeah, kinda crazy, kinda random, but whew… kinda good because I realized Drunk Jean totally couldn’t remember Bling Butt’s name! Now I could just ask Johnna so I could put it in my phone! Winning!

Fast forward a few more drinks (because THAT was necessary) and several “It was nice to meet you” “You’re Hott/Gorgeous” texts (Swoon, it’d been a LONG time since I’d been complimented by a suitor) and it was time to leave. As promised, I went back up to the bar to say good bye. I was pleasantly surprised, oh eff it I was straight-up GIDDY, when he stood and gave me a hug and said he’d talk to me soon. I also noticed the napkin with my email and number was crumbled up and tossed aside as trash… but I didn’t let it bother me, he was already texting… right? Right.

Well the texting continued through the night/early hours of the morning and the following day or two… Harmless stuff, get-to-know you questions, thinking of you type texts, the kind of thing that just puts a smile on your face and slowly makes you feel a little worthwhile again. Every now and then I remembered the bling butt douchebag jeans, but… I decided to let it go, I also decided that while he seemed like a sweet enough guy it was likely to fizzle out before I even ever saw him again. BUT, he had served his purpose… I was holding my head a little higher, I was feeling a little more confident AND I finally figured out what I needed in order to pull myself out of the cavernous depths of self-pity and wallowing I’d been luxuriating in… A one-night stand. #Obviously.

As predicted he slowly stopped texting me. And I didn’t mind. Here was a guy that I saw across a bar and thought was way out of my league… but then he was texting me and calling me gorgeous and cute and wanting to… well, probably just wanted to get in my pants, but hell – I’m still calling that a WIN. It’s not like I’m ready for any kind of actual relationship. Upon realizing that all I really wanted was likely the same thing he did I was almost disappointed that he’d stop texting me, but… C’est la Vie

A couple of weeks passed and then, out of the blue…

Bling Butt Text: Hey.

This time around I didn’t text the way I had before. This time I knew what I wanted. Courtship was highly overrated, I just wanted to see him again and see, just see if maybe kissing someone new would be the push I needed to get me fully back into the land of the living, not just visiting occasionally. So, I bravely invited him to our company holiday party as my date.

He genuinely sounded disappointed when he couldn’t make it due to it being the same night as his bowling league… something he apologetically referred to as his only nerd quality, but ironically was the first time I thought maybe he was a real person and worth more than being treated as a starting block to get me back in the race…

The night of the holiday party arrived and we made plans for him to meet my co-workers and I out at a bar after the party and bowling were both over. Admittedly I was excited for my co-workers to see me moving on and having a bit of arm candy to show off felt pretty good too. Unfortunately, we ended up going to the same bar he and I had met at and he just wasn’t “feeling it” and kept apologizing but wasn’t going to come meet me. I remember my co-workers looking at me with the sad eyes, feeling bad that he wasn’t coming, but it honestly didn’t bother me that much. Yes, it would have been nice to show people that someone was interested in me and there for me, it’d been too long of feeling like that wasn’t ever going to be true again, but to me, he wasn’t a real person… in fact, that night we coined the term ‘NARP’—Not A Real Person—in regard to him. I don’t mean for it be offensive, but let’s be honest… he was only still in the picture to serve one function – and it wasn’t to be my Prince Charming.

While he didn’t join us for the after-party, I did get a call from him, yes… he broke the one rule I’d given him about not liking to talk on the phone.

Bling Butt: Hey.

AJ: Hi. Um, what’s going on?

Bling Butt: I’m going to be in the parking lot in a few minutes, I’m dropping off my truck to get a ride with my buddy – we’re headed down to P&L (NOTE: For those non-Kansas City folks: P&L is basically the Mothership for Douchebags)… Anyway, I thought you could come outside and get that kiss we talked about…

AJ: That seems a little trashy. I mean, going to a parking lot to get a kiss from a guy I don’t really know before he head’s out to douche-central? I don’t know…

Bling Butt: C’mon, I want to see you…

AJ: If that were true you would have met us out like you said you were going to.

Bling Butt: The owner of that bar is my dad’s best friend, I hang out there all the time, you’re with all your co-workers, it just… I just don’t want to do that right now… C’mon Baby, come outside and kiss me.

STOP. ‘Baby’??? UGH. Gross. HashtagBARF. That’s just…

AJ: Okay, I’m on my way out… (WHAT??? He was really hott and a kiss seemed like a REALLY good idea…)

So, I met him in the parking lot, and he kissed me. One of those hard fast kisses full of wanting… It was nice. And it was so trashy… 20’s Jean would have been proud. Nearing 40’s Jean was a wee bit mortified, but a wee too desperate to care.

Kim, as I came back into the bar: “Hey where’d you go?”

Me: “Oh. Um. Nowhere, I was just in the bathroom and then just… nowhere. I’m here. Sorry.”

Kim: “Okay, I think we’re getting ready to leave.”

Me: “Alright.”

And that was my first kiss with Bling Butt. It was also the start of him texting more… a lot more. I’m not gonna lie, he texted all night from P&L and it felt good to know that here was King Douche, surrounded by his people, and he was texting me all night, wanting to talk to me and be with me. Guys, take note – this dude is a player. He is a douchebag, a harmless and sweet douchebag, but douche nonetheless… BUT, your women need your kind words, your attention, your compliments… the little things matter. If you aren’t giving them, trust me, we can find someone who will. The players of the world know this game—and if you don’t play it they will, and they will win.

The kiss was on a Friday. By Saturday he was asking if I wanted to hang out. Maybe watch a movie. I was like I LOVE movies. Like seriously, most weekends I just hangout with my cat and watch… Oh. Wait. It’s probably important here if I use some of the exact words that were expressed…

Text from Him: I was thinking we could hang out tonight.

Me: I’d like that.

Him: Maybe some Netflix and chill.

Me: Yes! That’s totally my thing. That’s basically what I do like every weekend with my cat.

Him: lol. Well okay then, text me your address and I’ll come over later.

NOW – It’s important for me to break down a few things here.

• Since my friend knew this guy and had for years, I felt pretty comfortable that he was harmless and didn’t see any issue in having him come over to watch a movie. I was bit nervous because back in my day “watch a movie” was code for making out, but I DID like kissing him and wouldn’t mind kissing him some more… which leads me to kids these days…
• Soooo it turns out “Netflix and Chill” doesn’t mean what I thought it meant. Turns out it’s actually code for much more than making out and apparently Hermit Jean was the LAST PERSON IN AMERICA to know this… It also appears as though I basically told Bling Butt I was a raging whore who slept around with guys every weekend when I told him “That’s totally my thing!” #SadlyNotTrue

TMI WARNING!! CA-CAW! CA-CAW!! STOP READING IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH…

(Mom, that means you.)

Sooo, my ridiculously hott (two t’s) NARP came on over (turns out he has an embroidery version of the bling butt jeans… better, but… Son. Seriously. Why??) and we made it about 3 minutes into the movie before I learned what “Netflix and Chill” really meant…

Honestly, at that point, I was pretty down to N&C. The libido wants what the libido wants. Although, if I had a dollar for every time he called me “Baby” well… I’d be writing this from some sweet vacation spot right now. “Baby” on repeat = Gross. I’m not Francis Houseman.  (NOTE: Guys, don’t do that… at least not on constant repeat. Blech.) After the “movie” was over, he stayed the night and turned out to be a pretty solid snuggler, which was good because I silently cried a little as I realized this really was the end of me and Crush. It was nice being held. And, “Baby” aside, it was nice hearing positive reinforcement of my awesomeness. (Feel free to use your imagination here, but just know I’m like a cougar unleashed… almost literally…)

After that night there were some notable text exchanges worth sharing… like for example when he wanted to get on Snapchat with me… Now, I don’t really get the whole Snapchat thing and up to that point didn’t really use it, though I did have an account… And, minds out of the gutter please, he wasn’t wanting (nor has he ever wanted) to Snapchat anything dirty… just selfies and random parts of how he was spending his day… BUT… Well… the FIRST Snapchat he sent me… it was a selfie. And he looked so hot and I knew it was about to go away forever (seriously Snapchat, what’s the point??? It’s like sand art, the waves come and it’s just gone… I. DON’T. GET. IT.) Soooo I took a screenshot of the selfie Snapchat he sent. And IMMEDIATELY got this text:

Bling Butt: Did you seriously just screenshot my Snapchat??

AJ (WTF?? It tells him that? Snapchat? More like Snitchchat… little bitch!!): Yeah. Duh. (I find feigning confidence in these situations can be helpful.)

Bling Butt: lol. (Seriously if we ever played a drinking game with all the times he texted ‘lol’ to me… I’d be dead. Like for real. #AlcoholPoisoning)

Another exchange I find to be exceptionally charming, in regard to me, not so much him:

Bling Butt: So how would you describe me?

AJ: Sweet, rolled up in douchebag, sprinkled with hott.

Yep, these are REAL things I said/texted/did… #AwkwardJean2016 Any guesses his response? If you guessed ‘lol’ then gold star – you’ve been paying attention!

Sooo, the texting went on for a bit, we “hung out” a bit more, but back to this “Baby” business… I started thinking about that napkin that I’d seen crumbled up on the bar and I began to wonder if Bling Butt even knew my name. I mean, here it’d been about a month of texting and a couple of weeks of “hanging out” and suddenly his use of the word “Baby” seemed suspect. I mean, sure he was the fist-pumping, jersey shore, bling butt type of guy who would likely think the use of “Baby” to be a sexy term of endearment, but… Did he actually KNOW my name?? I mean, what if he typed my number into his phone that night, tossed the napkin, didn’t save me as a contact and all this time had no idea what my name was?? I mean, let’s be honest, if by some fluke deal I hadn’t been friends with an old acquaintance of his then I wouldn’t have remembered his name… I likely, awkwardly, would have asked but still… Did he know my name?

So, Johnna reached out to him to let him know that she knew a girl he’d been talking to… he didn’t respond. So I texted and told him I knew Johnna…

His Response: Ahhh… that makes sense she sent me a message earlier asking if I knew you. Not gonna lie, I don’t know your name… you’re in my phone as ‘Blonde from Twisters’

And Scene. No seriously, there were a few more texts after that… the one where we realize he’s only 31 and I’m 37 (TOLD you I was a cougar), a few drunken Happy New Year’s texts… then nothing. It fizzled out as quickly as it started… which is exactly what a NARP is for… they aren’t a real person; they are just there to serve a very specific purpose… which he did.

When all is said and done, I don’t regret it. I feel better about myself. I’m reminded of my worth and that it is much more than the Crushes or the Douches of the world are prepared to appreciate. NOW, don’t get me wrong… there WILL be some more NARP’s and some more Douche’s along the way. And who knows, someday there may be another Crush… but probably not for a while. For now we’ll just work on the day-to-day. It’s still a struggle, I still feel so hurt and lost and broken… BUT… I’m able to recognize it won’t be this way forever… and THAT is a pretty good start in the right direction. Thank you Bling Butt.

Xoxo—Awkward Jean