St. Patty’s Day Recap

I don’t really know what this feeling is. Either I’m still hung over from Saturday or I’m wallowing in self-contempt. Hmmm…

OK, the truth? I know exactly what this feeling is. It’s called, “I’m such a fucking moron!” And trust me, I’ve felt it before. And it seems that I’m feeling it again, thanks to that glorious holiday – St. Patrick’s Day.

Now St. Patty’s Day has normally been kind to me. Except for the year when I was cocktail waitressing on St. Patty’s Day – and spent the entire day drenched in beer and trying to fend off grabby hands – it’s been a holiday that I invariably enjoy. But this year it’s the aftershocks of St. Patty’s Day that are making me feel…well, like crap actually.

And I’m going to share it with all of you (sort of – you’re not getting all the details). Hopefully this will help with the guilt.

So, the short version: Christine (my friend) and I went to a pub near her apartment for a Guinness or two on Saturday, met a group of guys, and one took a liking to me (Guy #1). He seemed nice, and I was a little bored, so I let him buy drinks for us. Somehow he kept buying drinks, we ended up at another bar, and after a few hours one of his friends (Guy #2) pulled me aside and said, “Stop messing with him, I know you’re not really interested in him. Just leave him alone.”

What? Where had that come from? I’ve never been told to leave anyone alone before. And (surprise!) I didn’t like it.

Now I will admit that no, I probably never was going to date Guy #1. But we were having fun hanging out and flirting, I hadn’t promised anyone anything, and I honestly didn’t think I owed anyone anything. Guy #1 offered to keep buying drinks, and he never asked for anything in return. Plus, he was a nice, cute guy – it wasn’t like I had taken on a charity case. I just didn’t really see anything coming of it. But that was my choice. What was his friend’s problem?

Honestly though, between Guy #2’s disapproval and Christine’s boredom (she hadn’t connected with anyone and wanted to go home), I decided it was time to call it a night. So I said my goodbyes to Guy #1, gave him my number (hey, you never know), and went outside. And who just happened to be out there?

Guy #2 was standing at the corner, trying to hail a cab. Christine gave him a wave, gave me a wave, and took off (since she lived nearby), leaving us alone. And there I was, stuck with a guy who had basically told me to back off his friend. So no, I wasn’t exactly excited to be spending more time with him.

BUT, he was headed in the same direction I was, and he insisted on sharing a cab. Fine.

Let me just reiterate right here that I had been drinking for hours. I was floating in a state of unreality. Yet what happened in the cab still seems particularly unreal. Basically, we started talking. He insisted that he didn’t hate me. He just thought I was “too good” for his friend. (Who says that about their friend? Does this guy even know the meaning of the word loyalty?) He then continued by telling me I was “the most beautiful woman” he’d ever seen (I know, I know – total line), my hair was driving him crazy (some guys do get off on the red hair), and he didn’t want me to get together with his friend because he wanted me for himself.

What?!

Now at this point I have to say that a bunch of things were going through my mind. 1) Wasn’t this literally against every guy code out there? He was making a move on the girl his friend had been hitting on for hours. And he had been at least partially responsible for my cutting the night short with his friend. 2) Much as I knew they were lines, all the compliments were nice to hear. (What? So I like to have my ego stroked every once in a while.) 3) Um, he had a girlfriend (has, actually). I’d heard all about her from his friends – they couldn’t stop talking about her because apparently she’s a model (this always excites guys). So basically, he was off-limits. If I touched him, we were talking about seriously bad karma. I don’t need bad karma. 4) He was hot.

Anyway, I ummm…alright, I made out with him. I know, I know. I’m a bad person. But really I only made out with him a little bit – in Christine’s words (after I described everything to her), it was a ‘high school makeout session.’ It could have been much worse.

But I stopped him. A little too late, but I stopped him.

And I then got the hell away from him. After giving him my number.

What the fuck? Well, without really psycho-analyzing myself (something I avoid most of the time), let’s just say I have horrible taste in men. Oh, and it turns out I’m a hypocrite (who knew?); I always say that cheating is for the weak (I NEVER cheat), but I did make out with someone who was cheating (sort of – I’m pretty sure kissing is still cheating), so are we really that different? After all, his lack of character pissed me off – not enough apparently, but still - but it was my lack of character that really pisses me off.

Because, I mean, I may not have been the one in a relationship, but I knew he was.

So, yes, I was feeling a little bad yesterday. And I called Christine to talk about it. That turned out to be a mistake.

While reading me the riot act, Christine reminded me that both she and I had been cheated on in the past. And now I was no better than the girls our boyfriends had cheated on us with. (Oh yeah, she went there.) It was bad. I'm kind of avoiding her phone calls now. Because I feel awful, and what I don't need right now is someone making me feel worse.

But wait, the story isn’t over yet. Both guys – Guy #1 and Guy #2 – called me yesterday and asked me out. I was evasive with Guy #1 – because how could I date him now? His friend made a pass at me (and asked me not to mention it to Guy #1 – dickhead), and I…um…I made out with him. Fuck. And Guy #2, well, he was very apologetic and also very, very flattering on the phone. I reminded him that he was screwing over his girlfriend and his friend (again!) by asking me out and telling me…stuff. He agreed but continued to lay on the charm. Somehow I got off the phone with him. And now I’m not answering any numbers I don’t recognize. Or Christine. Shit.

So that’s it. That's my story; that was my St. Patty’s Day. That’s why I feel guilty. That’s why my friend is disappointed in me, (and doesn’t mind telling me), and that’s why women say guys aren’t to be trusted (even by other guys).

How was your holiday?