Seat Four

Boredom struck again this week at my restaurant job. While working a slow lunch, you can pass the time one of a few ways: eating, talking with your co-workers, actually waiting on your tables, OR, if you are lucky enough, flirting with a hot guy who manages to make his way to your restaurant for lunch. Given how slow it was the other day, I thought the last option would be out, and I would be stuck in back regretting the loaf of bread that I single-handedly would eat by myself. Low and behold, table 40 gets sat, and Seat Four was doing just the trick. After a few minutes, I had already made up my mind that Seat Four was going to know by the end of his lunch that I was interested, and that it would be in his best interest to either take my number, or leave his.

Considering he wasn't sitting at one of my tables, I had to coerce one of the other servers to pass along the message. Taking into account the fact that all of us weren't amused by the lack of guests coming through the door, this wasn't a difficult task to achieve.  Meanwhile, one of the bartenders and I were making inappropriate jokes and comparing penis sizes to a Pellegrino bottle to pass the time. Finally, the server dropped the bomb and told Seat Four that one of the servers was interested to know if he was single. Seat Four asked, "Which one?" Two seconds later, 7 pairs of eyes were on me. After channeling my inner giddy school girl and running out back to hide in the kitchen, my buddy came back to deliver the verdict. He was taken... Womp wompppp. You win some you lose some.

An hour later, after table 40 had come and gone, their server walked up to me and handed me a credit card slip. "I think this is for you," he said. Seat Four had left his number. Well well well, look who decided to show up and play ball anyway. Not like I was all that surprised. Let's face it, I'm hot shit. Now, before the home wrecker comments start flowing, bear in mind, I didn't ask for this. Like loads of guys, he decided to stick his neck out there; most likely because he isn't entirely happy with the situation that he's in. No judgement here. Did that mean I was going to call him? Nope. The minute I heard he was taken, I had written him off.

Later that night, Chay texted me. "So, this dude I play basketball with said he was at your restaurant today and the waiter said that one waitress thought he was cute and that he left his number." Jesus tap dancing Christ, can this city get any smaller? Am I being Punk'd? Where's Ashton? Does every hot guy in the city play basketball at Sports Club LA? Thankfully, Chay is one of the chillest hookups on the planet and had no intention of blowing up my spot. Not like it really mattered. If this guy wanted to judge me based on my past hookups, while trying to hang out with me rocking a ball and chain, he's probably not a dude I would want to be spending my time with. "Do you want me to hook it up?" he asked. After about .2 seconds of debate.. "Sure, why not?"

Then I thought, what is my dating life coming to, that I need to grab drinks with a guy who is emotionally unavailable? After comparing notes with my long-time friend, H, we came up with a theory that the men in Boston have driven us to doing this. Desperate times call for desperate measures, right? We're young, viable, and ready to get our date on. So, what is stopping us?! Is it because we have been seeing a lot of the same when it comes to the selection of men in this city? (To be fair, I don't think the majority of the women in Boston offer a whole lot of differentiation, either. See what I did there guys? I'm sympathizing with you, too.) Maybe I'm just too awesome to date? Is it my intelligence, beauty and undeniably charming wit that are my demise? It has to be every guy's fault in this city that I'm not dating a perfect 10 by now, right? Mmm, probably not. I know that minute I start blaming other people for my dating failures, I will then have to credit them with my successes down the road. And that's not happening. Looks like I'll just have to keep fishing. I'll try a few different lures and get back to you.

In the meantime, I'll be eating, drinking, and working around the city, while trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions.

'Til next time,

A Babe In Boston