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I’ve been lying to you. Well, stretching the truth is probably a more accurate description. There was a brief window of time, back around Memorial Day, where I was crushing on a friend, a girl who you know as “Mia,” and I wrote a series of blogs about being stuck in The Friend Zone. It was fun. I enjoyed it. A good time was had by all.
I should have communicated to her what I wanted. I should have been more proactive about pursuing her in a romantic way. I didn’t. My crush faded. Life. Goes. On.
And, in the name of transparency, because that’s what we do here, I’ll say that after a brief, fleeting, intense desire to pursue Mia romantically, I realized I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship, came to my senses, and didn’t like her that way anymore.
I even literally said this in the blog last week about grabbing dinner and drinks. When Mia mentioned to me that she wanted to introduce me to her friend, I had this to say: “It hit me like a wrecking ball in the gut, except without a naked Miley Cyrus ride on top. Okay, I’m being a little dramatic. It didn’t really impact me at all, if we’re being honest. And that’s when I knew my crush on Mia was beginning to fade. I didn’t mind that she was potentially trying to set me up with a friend.” I should have been clearer: my crush on Mia was already gone by the time she first told me about Jen.
Okay, so now you’re caught up. Let me reiterate: I do not like my friend Mia as anything other than a friend and haven’t in a long time. That does not mean that if she all of a sudden professed her love for me I would reject her. Far from it; I’d probably at least give it a whirl because I’m not quite at the point yet where the thought of hooking up with her gives me the willies, but I’m probably getting close. And, after recent events, I can probably put one of the final nails in the coffin for the story of Mia and me.
Which brings me to Jen.
Lyla invited me out for her birthday a few weeks ago, and Mia even texted me to see if I’d be meeting up with them and their friends on that particular Tuesday night to indulge in fishbowls and margs at some taco joint in Brooklyn. And while the prospect of drinking my face off with Mia, Lyla, and their hot single friends sounded phe-no-me-nal, I had to decline, as I had a first date planned with a cutie from JSwipe. For a hot second, I considered rescheduling the date in order to hang with Mia, Lyla, and their hot single friends, but it’s not really my style to cancel dates. Anyway, the date went reallyyyyy well, so I was happy I didn’t cancel.
I texted Lyla the next day and said we should meet up for bottomless brunch that upcoming weekend to celebrate her birthday considering my buddy Moxon and I didn’t come out to Brooklyn for her birthday. She was into the idea because Lyla’s a down ass chick who jumps at the chance for bottomless brunch, unlike some of my wet noodle friends.
That Saturday, I sent out a text in the group text of Moxon, Lyla, Mia, and myself.
Boston Max – Saturday December 30, 10:28 a.m.: Anyone wanna do bottomless *champagne emoji*
Mia – 11:33 a.m.: Nawww sorry I’m trying to wait to drink till tonight
Boston Max – 11:33 a.m.: Saving up the bullets
Lyla – 11:48 a.m.: Samezies but wanna come to frat sushi at 7!!?
Lyla – 11:49 a.m.: Max COME to Kumo at 7pm
Boston Max – 11:50 a.m.: What’s frat sushi?! I’m in, that place is right by Moxon’s apartment
Lyla – 11:51 a.m.: Bottomless sushi and sake bombs!!
Lyla – 11:51 a.m.: Yaaaaaasssss
Mia – 11:53 a.m.: Yes!!!!!
Mia – 11:53 a.m.: Yay
So Moxon and I spent the afternoon knocking back beers and went over to this all-you-can-eat all-you-can-drink sushi sitch and even though Moxon lives across the street from the restaurant, we were basically the last to arrive. I sat down next to Lyla, across from Mia, and Moxon sat down next to Mia. There were a few dudes who I guess went to high school with Mia and Lyla, and then a few girls whom I’d actually never met before, who also went to high school with them. They were cute, so I introduced myself right away. After a quick round of introductions, we were all acquainted. Jen was seated diagonally from me. I was struck by her big blue eyes and this emo-looking black beanie thing she was rocking. I was into it.
Dinner, to put it simply, was a blur. A complete shit show of drunken proportions. This restaurant is notorious with young locals as being a place that won’t check IDs, so the restaurant vibe is young kids – high school, college – sake bombing and making a ruckus. It’s glorious. And here we were, a bunch of mid-twentysomethings, keeping up with all of them. So many sake bombs I couldn’t even count. I don’t even really remember if I did much eating of sushi. I just know that in the span of maybe two hours we easily got our money’s worth.
I hardly talked to Jen during the dinner, since I was being cliquey with Mia, Lyla, and Moxon, but also because the restaurant was so fucking loud and wild it was tough to really speak with anyone who wasn’t directly next to you or across from you. But Jen did get my attention because right away I could tell she was fun. Just infectious energy, outgoing like the pros do it, and at one point stood up and got a few tables to do some sort of sake bomb chant. She was loud and boisterous and making a scene. She was the female embodiment of me. I was aroused.
After we somehow managed to settle the bill at the sushi spot, the gang discussed next moves. Lyla and I floated going to Sapphire (a strip club), which gives you a sense of how drunk we were by the time we stumbled out of the restaurant and onto 1st Ave around 9:30 p.m. We landed on a dive bar close by, and we all went, except Moxon who grumbled something about being too fucked up. His loss.
At the bar we began sipping Bud Lights and schmoozing with each other. At one point, me, Mia, Lyla, and Jen settled into a booth. The conversation was great, and I was finally getting a chance to chat with Jen. As the night wore on, my arm found its way behind Jen, and she had her hand on my thigh. She also was particularly fond of rubbing my True Grit quarter zip which I snagged on, you guessed it, Man Outfitters, and have found it to be the best wingman a guy could ask for. Fellas, girls go B-A-N-A-N-A-S for these damn shearling QZs. Get one. Do it.
Slowly, the gang began to leave the bar, and eventually, Mia and Lyla paid us a goodbye. As soon as Jen and I found ourselves alone, we began making out like two horny teenagers. In between the making out we continued to get to know each other, and Jen asked a relatively innocuous question: “How come Mia and Lyla have been hiding you from me? Do you have, like, this weird fetish I should know about?”
And I don’t know why I said what I said, but what came out of my mouth was the following: “Yes, actually. I have a weird obsession with the movie Armageddon. And The Holiday.” Jen burst out laughing and in seconds that comment was forgotten. Until I decided that everything we talked about, I’d relate to some plot point in one of those two films. Not to toot my own horn, but it was fucking hilarious and worked like a damn charm.
NYC’s 4 a.m. last call kicked us out onto the street, the bitter cold stinging our faces. We continued making out on the street, and then, as I hailed a cab for Jen, she asked me if I wanted to come back to her apartment.
“Nah,” I replied, and sent her on her way. In that moment, I realized if I’d slept with Jen, I’d have completely ruined any future chances with Mia, so I decided NOT to go back to Jen’s place….. JUST KIDDING!!! LMFAO ROFL. That’s actually not why I said no. I said no because it was 4 a.m. and was coming to from a blackout state. Not a recipe for good sex. I know how I, um, perform when I’m that drunk. Would’ve been like pushing rope, like trying to ring a doorbell with a Twizzler.
So, we parted ways, and texted her that I enjoyed meeting her. She came back with some quip about Armageddon and I knew that I could see myself hanging out with Jen again. .