Last weekend, I made the pilgrimage back to Maine for my friend's wedding. It was quite the journey getting there. I boarded the bus at 8, was supposed to arrive in Boston at 12, and was slated to meet up with friends and continue the schlep to Maine at 2. Well, the tire of my Megabus blew out and we were stranded on the side of the highway for two hours. My friends graciously waited for me and we continued on to Waterville. By the time we arrived, we were extremely late for the welcome event.
Our late start gave us no time to eat on the road and we missed the event's dinner so we decided to fill our bellies with wine. Booze plus an empty stomach is never a good idea. But we suspended our knowledge and raised several glasses to the happy couple. I was being greeted warmly by old friends, the bride, and the bride's family when I noticed a group of men staring at us. I turned back to continue socializing but I was curious as I didn't recognize any of them as old college pals. I looked over my shoulder, curls bouncing and red wine swaying with the movement and made a mental note of the giant in the corner.
Within the hour, my crisp white crop top was stained with red wine. I changed into a sleek white dress before heading to a local mainstay for drinks with the wedding party. I bought at least 7 rounds of shots for an assortment of friends, strangers, and townies. In no time, I was on stage, heels in hand, dancing to "Cotton Eyed Joe" (I was a cheerleader in high school and still remember the moves). A cute townie asked me to dance and held me close. He said all the things Ryan Gosling or Henry Cavill would say in romantic comedy written by Nicholas Sparks. But when he went in for the kiss, I went in for the high five and wink. Back to the dorms we went and I was locked out. Did I give the townie my key? Nah, that doesn't sound like me.
I snapchatted my struggle and the giant was upon me. "Hey. You look like you're having a rough night..." "Yeah. Pure struggle." I quipped. Other bits of small talk were made but at this point it's very hazy.
The next morning, we prepped for the wedding. And I did my best not to let my brain ooze out of my ears. I never get hungover but I also never drink without eating so... you know, first time for everything. The wedding went off without a hitch, my friend was stunning and happy and I was happy for her. During the reception, I was pulled on stage twice much to my chagrin. But divas must perform when called to.
After the reception, some kids I went to school with hit on me (largely for nostalgia sake I'm sure) while the giant stood directly behind me. I was holding a 2010 bottle of red from my favorite French winery and offered him a glass. He told me not to "waste it" on him, I said "it's not a waste. Drink up". We chatted about our work, the origin of my name, our heights (he was 6'7 and I was drooling), and we soon decided to order pizza. After a hearty debate about the merits of banana peppers as a topping, we went outside of the dorm to pick it up and took the elevator back to a be pizza heroes to a slew of drunk twenty somethings. I was surprised he didn't kiss me in the elevator but my interest was piqued enough to keep the interaction going.
Two hours later we were playing Frisbee in the grass with his friends. We laughed, played lots of Rihanna, and smoked cigars. I tarnished my good girl image as I blew smoke rings. We exchanged numbers and he walked me back to my dorm. I told him it was 4:30 a.m and I was sleepy. I turned around to leave and he called back to me but it was not enough for me to let go of the door knob and continue the night with him.
The light of day left me with so many regrets. I should've asked him to kiss me. Hell, I should've ridden him like a motor bike. 10 hours later I was back in New York and still adding "should'ves" to that long list. On Wednesday, I was still kicking myself so I sent him a text. I vaguely remembered him saying something about travelling. So maybe the ocean will keep him from responding or maybe he took my sexy walk away as ugly rejection.
By Thursday I still had no response. But by Friday, by Friday I had a surprise in my inbox. And the adventure begins.