International Man of Mystery

Life's been a bit boring lately. I've moved back into my apartment at school and along with it has come a healthy dose of drama (messy roommate issues, of course). I'm hoping things will get better after a sit down talk, so I won't write about it (yet). I'm trying to approach it rationally so the less crazy dwelling on it, the better. 

I also have my first day of work tomorrow. Without giving away too many details, I'm working for a governmental committee. My boss is an absolute sweetheart and has already called me several times to see how my holidays have been. The schedules going to be a pain (I havent seen the 'waking up' side of 7 am since high school), but it should be a great networking opportunity. 

In other news, this guy from my 'past' sent me the ever-romantic Facebook IM trying to make plans for this weekend. To appreciate the humor in this, a bit of back story is necessary. 

I'm vice-president of a campus group that frequently attends conferences held by large universities. While there's definitely an academic element, anytime you have 2,000 college students in a hotel, shenanigans are bound to ensue. At a conference we went to in November,  the host university rented a club.  

Our school has a reputation as a bit of a party school, so we hosted a pre-party. I'm about as white as it comes to dancing, so I prepared myself by skipping around the hotel room with a bottle of jager. Some military cadets were crammed in the bathroom around a bathtub full of beer, not a girl in sight. A couple was making out in the closet and people were jumping on beds. If this was the pre-party, it certainly bode well for the rest of the night.

By the time we made it to the club, I was the better side of drunk. One minute I'm dancing, the next thing I know, I'm making out with some random boy. After what feels like an hour later, he looks at me, laughs, and shouts gleefully, "I'm gay!" Vaguely terrified, I run away.

Unable to find my friends, in true drunk girl style, I find myself dancing with another guy.  Luckily, my friends were slightly more sober than I was and found me, dragging me home before I made an additional spectacle of myself. Angry at the time, I shouted my room number over my shoulder, while loudly calling my friends cockblocks. I was in rare form.

After falling out of the taxi, our boys put me to sleep in their room (we had connecting hotel rooms). Who knows how long I was asleep for, but suddenly, I heard knocking on the door. Apparently, the boys found an after party, because I was home alone. Creeping to the door, I found my dance partner. Apparently he was good with numbers.

I started to pull him into my room next door, until I realize there was a random guy in my bed. I didn't think I had  been that drunk, so I frantically looked around. Much to my relief, my roommate was passed out on the bathroom floor. 

Never an exhibitionist, I pulled my dance partner into the hallway and up the stairwell. One thing led to another and before I knew it, I was the better part of naked. I guess I had some sense knocked into me after being pushed against the wall, but I looked this fellow square in the eye and informed him I was NOT that kind of girl and I would NOT sleep with him. I'm sure I was quite convincing in bra and underwear. However, he took me for my word and we agreed this had just been a one time thing. He wouldn't even tell me his name and I gave him a fake one. 

Two weeks later, I get a friend request on Facebook. Oh, hello guy from the stairwell. I still have no idea how he found me, but after we got past the awkwardness of my fake name giving being uncovered, we talked a bit and have kept up over break. He goes to school nearby and now wants to go on some sort of date this weekend. 

He's certainly nice enough, but I definitely had my beer goggles on that night. Plus, I see face-to-face conversation being limited at best. There's only so much time you can fondly look  back on a thirty minute ordeal. 

"Oh, haha, remember that time you did some serious searching on Facebook to find me after you wouldn't give me your name?" The future grandkids will love that story.