The last sane bloke in Chicago

I decided around 10pm to get out of the house.  I put on one of my favorite t-shirts, a new pair of French Connection jeans, a pair of shoes I bought last year and never worse (dark, dark brown) and didn't bother taking a shower.  My hair is crazy long at the moment, down to my chin, and it had a great unkempt look to it.  When I picked up a carton of cigarettes at the local gas station, my usual late-night gal said "Your hair looks like Johnny Depp's."  I'll take a compliment, even from a 40-something gas station worker.  I smiled and it never left my face all night.

I went to a bar I hadn't hit before, the Green Eye Lounge in Logan Square (or is it Bucktown?).  Got a parking spot right out front, ignored the screaming El rolling overhead, and wandered in.  Crowded, but not too crowded.  Quite a few bike messenger-types that don't enthuse me, but a good share of locals, a few yuppies, and a bunch of groups minding their own clique.

I ordered myself a drink, asking for the top shelf Scotch.  They didn't really have a wide selection, so I settled for what is normally a mediocre Scotch, not even paying attention to what the bartender poured me.

As luck would have it, a table that seats 4 only had a couple at it, minding their own business.  I asked them if I could snag a stool, and they said they didn't mind if I sat at their table and put my drink down.  I did.

We chatted about life, jobs, some politics, a little religion.  90 minutes into the conversation, we swapped email addresses and promised to hook up through Facebook.  I didn't mention this site as I didn't have the usual lead into it.  When I tell people I'm a writer, the first question out of most people's mouths are "Do you blog?"  When I say I do, I'll usually share the 3 sites I maintain, and even mention this one.

The man of the couple decided to get up and use the restroom, wherever that was.  I talked to his gal for a bit, and a friend of hers walks in, gives her a hug and sits down.  We all make introductions: her friend is Stace, a gal from her work.  I talk to Stace about her job, asking if she likes it, how long she's been there, where she wants to be.  It ends up that she's unhappy working the cubicle life, churning copy for an advertising agency that hasn't really breached the big markets.  I ask Stace why she doesn't go it alone, and her answer is one I've heard before: "I have too much college debt."  I offer my condolensces, and let her know it's a common problem.

Stace's friends have another round (this one on me), and then say their goodbyes as the clock rounds 1:30am.  She scoots her chair up to me, and the conversation continues without a lull.  "Are you seeing anyone?"  No one special.  "I just went through a breakup a few months ago.  He lost his job and decided to sit around the house and play video games." I've heard this story before, it is never pretty.  "He finally moved back in with his parents last month, and I have to carry the rent myself."  Terrible.  I've blogged about this exact topic more than one, and asked if she'll find a roommate.  "I'm moving out when the lease is up in July."

She inquires about my life, but I'm quiet on the details.  Happy with my careers, happy with my traveling, happy with my family and close friends.  I don't dig into my financial stability or any real details, and kept turning the questions around on her.  My smile stayed with me the entire night, and she noticed.  "You ARE happy, you're smiling.  I think you're the only one smiling in the room."  She slid her chair a little closer as the clock struck 2am.

What is there to be sad about, even if you have a terrible job, tons of debt and no short-term hope for the short-term future?  All those things can be changed with only minor adjustments to one's life.  We make some small talk about people around us, and she's shocked that I've taken such detailed notice of many of the people in the place.  "Your eyes have been on me all night, how did you see them?"  Getting details without being obvious is my business.  "You have nice eyes, they're so perceptive."

I looked at her closer now, noticing many features I admire in a woman.  Her 25 year old face still carries a little baby fat, her teeth are nice but not perfect.  The top and skirt she's wearing is either Target fashionable, or something thrifty but not cheap.  She notices me looking at her. "I'm holding about 10 pounds more than usual." Me, too, I tell her, unhappy that my stomach isn't as tight as it was last year.  I mention I'm not going to do anything about it, it'll shed off this spring naturally.  "I'm not either, but mine won't leave." She's begging for a compliment, something I give rarely and generally only after I've been complimented.  I tell her she looks nice, and that I'd have spoken to her even if we weren't introduced.  It's true, she's cute and has a great figure, pretty features, a great haircut, and soft-looking hands.

I tell her it's getting late and that I should hit the road since I live 15 minutes out.  "I guess I'll call a cab."  If you need a lift and live nearby, I can drop you off.  I don't bite.  She laughed and touched my knee.  Her touches all night were fantastic signs for me, but I didn't come here for that.

We stood up, I helped her with her coat, and she coaxed her arm into mine as we left the building.  I opened the door for her and she remarked at how clean my car is.  "I don't take you as the obsessive type."  I'm not, I just get it cleaned regularly in the good weather months.  I drive off, asking her where she lives.  "Let's just drive around awhile if you're not too tired or drunk."  I'm not, I had 3 cocktails in 6 hours and was 100% sober.

We drove, hitting a White Castle (Pulled Pork for both of us, as digusting as it sounds).  We parked in their parking lot and ate our food.  The conversation was hilarious, ending up with us making disgusting sounds with our mouths as the other person chewed.

The sandwiches were done and I didn't want trash in the car so quickly, so I ran out to throw away the trash.  An older black gentleman was walking slowly with his 3am meal to his car and looked like he needed help, so I offered to carry his food and help him in the car.  He accepted, and thanked me graciously for the help.  I went back to Stace, who remarked as I closed the door, "That was the sexiest thing I've seen in years."  What?  "You helping that old man out." I gave her a sideways smile, not realizing she could see me from the angle of my car and his.

I was about to reply when she leaned over the armrest and kissed me.  I didn't hold back, accepting her soft lips and her hand around my neck as we continued for a few minutes.  "You have amazing hair."  The compliments keep coming, putting me on cloud nine.

We made out like teenagers in my car for over an hour.  Finally, we both broke from the kiss for a mutual yawn.  "I don't want to, but I should get back home.  I have breakfast with my parents at 10."  I smile, give her another round of kisses for 2 minutes and softly agree.  I hightail it to her place in Humboldt Park ("East Wicker Park"), and we kiss for a few more minutes.  "You're not offended if I don't invite you up, right?"  Not at all.  Tonight was fun, just what I needed.  "Me, too.  I would, but I'm afraid you'll keep me up all night and I really need to see my folks."  I'm sure we'll see each other again.  "Oh, we will."  She opened her purse (not too expensive but fashionable), took out her business card and wrote her phone number on it.  "Call me next week, we'll do something if you're free."  I'll call and let you know.

She kissed me again, running her hand behind my back (giving me chills, the good kind) and squeezed my ass.  "I really want you to come up, maybe next time?"  Maybe.  "I needed this so badly, I thought I was turning frigid after Ralph."  I'm with you.  I'll talk to you soon.

She hopped out of my car, shaking her ass as she walked up her steps, looking back and smiling twice before she opened her door, waved cutely.  I winked, drove off, and found myself in bed by 4:25am.  Her lips and her hands and her neck were in my fantasies throughout both my self-indulged orgasms before my own mind winked out.  I'm pretty sure she's not too interested in dating, but it is nice to finally have at least one option if I decide to go down that road.  I'd still like to find someone I am more compatible with in terms of traveling this summer, but one should never shut their options down.  She's sexy, has a great face that is almost worthy of receiving my special gift after a night of hard and soft fucking (almost worthy), and she's definitely passionate and attentive.

We'll see.  Today I'm off to pick up a DVD or two for the evening, and a nice bottle of wine to share with just myself.