So, in this sea of Ed Hardy and hair gel, there was James. He was cute, tall and 23. He had lots of tattoos and looked a bit like James McAvoy, only cleaner. Maria and Dicky suggested I talk to him. I was bored and we weren't leaving the party any time soon, so I struck up conversation about his tattoos. I was flirting with him openly, in that way that says "I AM FLIRTING WITH YOU." I was making lots of extended eye contact and casually touching him when I checked out his tattoos. No game. He was flirting in return, but in the way some 23 year old men do. Less game. It was almost painful. He was no match for me. It was like shooting a fish in a barrel. If my only other option for entertainment weren't sitting on a cooler and watching a group of fatter Jersey Shore look-a-likes play beer pong, I would have walked away. But I stood there and flirted for around 5 more minutes. Then I joined Dicky and Maria, who had been in the corner giggling and guessing at the enthralling things James and I were talking about.
Later in the evening I went to the ladies room. It was a restroom that had a separate room for the toilet and bathtub. I was in that room with the door closed taking care of business. When I came out, there was James. Not sure if he realized that's not actually a waiting room, but we didn't discuss it. He leaned in and kissed me, fresh outta tha pisser. The whole thing was awkward. I had had just enough to drink to be okay with it for a minute, but AGAIN. Why all the kissing? Not to mention, he made this weird popping sound with his mouth. Like he was signaling the end of each mini kiss. He pressed me against the counter and I pushed away. Too much, kid. I was just in it for some flirting and laughing. I made my exit and rejoined Maria, where we discussed the event and watched the youngin' engage in beer pong with his cohorts.
It was an interesting way to spend a Thursday night. I wasn't trying to kiss a 23 year old, I was just trying to go to the Symphony, but somehow these things happen. I guess that's what you get for going to house parties when you are almost 30. I think next time I get that dressed up, I will hit up ZaZa or Marfreless after. You know, some place I can meet a nice 45 year old. That reminds me ... I haven't told you guys about the 45 year old, The Ex Coworker... Next time. For now, if they are drinking beer out of a sippie cup, just smile and walk on by.