Sink and Swim

I'm in a band. It's huge fun--it's probably the coolest thing I'm doing right now. I love it.

Tonight, we performed at a charitable event in the city. And, sadly, to say, we sucked. As in bombed. I'm not really sure what happened--I mean, our last performance was really strong! And suddenly, everything just fell apart. Our songs that we usually nail were crap. The whole thing was off. And sadly, even the songs we did nail were so old that the audience members (mostly my peers) were just not into it. And, oh yeah, there was a far superior band upstairs.

But the upside to all of this--my budding flirtation with on of our guitarists (apparently, I may or may not have learned my lesson about not dating coworkers, but I clearly have not managed to extrapolate from that lesson anything about dating other band members) came to a head tonight.

The Deputy Guitarist in our band is cute (actually looks a little like Austine, but I try not to hold that against him), has an amazing voice, and understands music incredibly well. He's affable, a good dresser, and has a charming Caribbean accent. And he flirts with me like nobody's business.

He asked for my number after last Wednesday's rehearsal, and there was no questioning the intent. And I had my suspicions when he offered me a ride home after our performance. Sure enough, we chatted in the car for probably an hour, hour and a half. When I made to leave, he got out of the car to open my car door and actually locked me into the car as he came over because my hand was too close to the door latch. He let me out of the car and gave me a big hug, which not shockingly turned into a kiss, which even less shockingly turned into fifteen minutes.

I have no decided that anything less than an hour is a goodnight kiss.

We undoubtedly could have kissed longer except that it's about 25 degrees or something in DC, and I was in my super-short sparkly dress procured for Superman's office party. Such a good purchase that was!

Under an hour.