The last sane bloke in Chicago

An Old Friend, re-found

I left for Washington, Dc at 6am Thursday morning. I arrived at the airport at 4:45am, made it to security and realized I didn't have my wallet: no debit card, no ID, no cash but the $120 in small bills floating in all of my jacket pockets.

Shit.

My main bank has no branches in DC. I had my passport, so I used that to check in, then freaked at how I'd buy food, pay for cabs, pay for the hotel.

The flight landed early, and instead of taking a limo as usual ($100), I hopped the Washington Flyer bus to a metro station (subway). $18 round trip.

I took the orange line ($2) to the center of town and hiked it 6 blocks to my hotel, the Henley Park Hotel. Built in 1918, the service was 5 star plus.

My suite wasn't available, so I downgraded to a queen. I needed a shower. The hotel did a $80 wire transfer of $1000 from my bank and would get me cash in 3 hours.

Once I got upstairs, I ordered a bottle of Febreze (long story) and unpacked my clothes to stick on the 10 wooden hangers in the closet.

Whoa, what's this? I accidetally threw dirty jeans in my bag. And what's in the rear pocket? My wallet, and $1500 in cash! Holy shit.

I rang the front desk, they halted the wire transfer, and life is golden. So I took an amazing shower.

I came to DC to visit a blogger I met through her site. She's in her 20s, and we've chatted on the phone, chitchatting nights away. We joked about how our friends all thought we were going to fuck, but it was obvious our personalities didn't offer sexual chemistry.

Plus we're not each other's types. I texted her that I was set up, and she said she'd call or text at 6, after work and her own shower.

I had some business in DC, but as everyone knows my work is just 20 minutes and I'm done. I met my client (a quick cab ride) and half an hour later, I'm wandering one of DC's small burroughs.

I walked about 3 miles between noon and 4, checking all the little bistros, shops and boutiques I came by. Cabs are odd in DC, you have to know which streets have them or you're stranded. I cabbed it back to the hotel and took a 2 hour power nap.

AFB#3, who I will call Agnes, texted me ayt 6pm to cab it to a restaurant we'd eat at. I arrived at 6:20, smoking while waiting at a 6-corner intersection. We've never met, but I knew what she looked like: kitchsy cute foreign-looking shorty with striking platinum hair.

10 minutes later, I catch her tiny frame crossing the street. She's way sexier in person than her pictures showed. Hot jacket, white t-shirt showing off her small frame with surprising curves, shocking bleached short spiky hair that looks really good on her.

We hug, and decide on sushi, just a few blocks walk away. The restaurant is tiny but well dressed. The prices are half of Chicago's, so I'm worried about quality. The owner's service is outstanding.

I order a big sashimi platter, she orders a variety of sushi and maki plus a seaweed salad. It's also time to order a large carafe of cold, unfiltered nigori sake.

Her salad looks great, and our conversation never lulls. Just like old friends, we pass from topic to topic, mutually laughing. Our dinners arrive and I'm in heaven: it is top notch fish!

As our dinners come to a close, our sake is empty. Neither of us are buzzed, so I order another large carafe which we both put away as dinner is finished. I'm slightly buzzed, she's laughing more. She has really nice lips, but shows me zero interest in more than a talking buddy. Damn.

We leave the restaurant, smoking as we decide on what to do next. It's barely 9pm. I google the movies, and we both agree on Star Trek, which all our friends raved over. Neither of us are Trekkies, but most of our friends aren't either.

10:15 movie. We cab to the theater and arrive early, so we hunt down coffee at 9:45. Google tells us there's a Starbucks, but we walk 6 blocks and find nothing. A few more blocks and we find a Barnes & Noble book store, with a Starbucks open till 10. Winner!

We order doble espressos, sit and continue our irrelevant and comical intercourse as we finish the coffees with enough time to make it back to the theater in the rainy night.

We buy tickets with 5 minutes to spare. I order stale pretzel bites and "cheese" and we buy some fruit snacks and Sour Patch Kids. We breeze into the 90% empty theatre as the movie is about to begin.

The movie was OK. We weren't impressed. Our friends are idiots. Eye candy for the guys and gals, explosions, etc. Decent, but eh. Agnes and I both agree it's a bit lame.

The movie's over around midnight twenty, so we leave into the rain to discuss the next plan. Neither of us are done hanging out, but we made plans to do something tomorrow if we hit it off.

Agnes is a bit friendlier, giving me a few glancing touches that are more in line with affection or attraction. She's cute and sexy as hell, definitely the hottest blogger I've met so far. I offer to buy drinks, so she picks a place. We cab it.

The strip of bars we visit are varied but all are loud, some obnoxious college frat bars. We pick a decent one, kind of empty with the music not too loud. We venture in, sit down and have a drink: her Jameson on the rocks, me Livet 15. $24 a round with a hefty tip for the hot, but gay, bartender guy.

We sit at the bar and chat more, still obviously mutually having a blast. There are no annoying pauses, and she makes and holds eye contact with me very well. We're both smiling and laughing, constantly.

She comments on my hair, long and obnoxious when not ponytailed. Our round disappears, so after another smoke break, we do another hefty round. I'm getting the buzz back, but not drunk. Neither is she.

The bartender buys me another $17 round on the house, which I swallow quick as the bar closes at 2am. Back home in Chicago, bars can stay open until 4 or 5am. 2am is too early, and Agnes took Fridy off to show me around.

We're both feeling a bit tired, though, so I offer to share a cab back to her place to drop her off on the way to the hotel. She's cool with that idea, but I offer her a second choice: come to my hotel, pop a bottle of wine, and watch cable. Neither of us have cable at home, so watching bad movies while continuing our fun night is a good idea. She agrees, and we hop a cab straight to my hotel.

We get in, her commenting on the nice, antique feel of the place. She hops into bed, taking her socks off but leaving her jeans and t-shirt on. There's still no sign from her if she's just wanting a friendship or more, so I change out of my dress shirt and into a t-shirt and hop into bed.

We're under the covers, fully clothed, and frustrated with 99 channels of infomercials. Its 2:30am. We flip and flip, open the bottle of Merlot, and keep flipping.

At 2:45, I pull her shoulder into me so she can cuddle while we watch some VH1 show about Paris Hilton type rich bitches. Cuddling is fine between friends. I'm sweating, though, so I announce that my pants are coming off. She responds in kind, and returns her head to the nook of my neck.

3am, VH1 goes ghetto, so we flip through 50 channels, settling on Adult Swim. As I return to the pillow to re-snuggle, we kiss. I think I might have kissed her, or she me. We were both buzzed, and it sort of just happened.

To be continued in Part II.

Posted by ChicagoSane at 8:34 PM