Just Kidding, Blacked Out Kim Has No Moves

On September 18, 2014 by Kim Wetter

This post starts out much like any other. It was a Friday night and my friend was in town visiting from SF. I arranged a happy hour right after work so we could get our drinking started immediately. Or at least I could. She announced that she really wanted to go to R Place. I had invited the Blacked Out Moves Night girl as we had become good friends and although we both thought R Place sounded like a good idea, going at 9pm did not.

But, we went at 9pm anyways. Luckily, there was a drag show that night so we all ordered drinks and got our $1s ready. My friend from out of town had wanted to go that early to meet up with her ex girlfriend. It wasn’t long until they disappeared to a quieter level to talk. So, left to my own devices at R Place, I obviously started looking for women to flirt with. This pretty girl came to meet up with Blacked Out Moves girl and she immediately had my attention.

Ian-Somerhalder-flirting

What happened next was all a bit of a blur (R Place drinks are all very strong and you should not consume multiple vodka tonics there before 11pm). The drag show happened and the group I was with announced that they wanted to leave to go to the Wildrose. My friend was still talking to her ex gf and had a full drink so I couldn’t leave. I ordered yet another R Place drink to wait for her. By the time I got to the Rose to meet up with the group, I was sufficiently hammered. And I was locked on… Flirting with the pretty new girl in that group was my main mission.

I ended up following her and Blacked Out Moves girl to another bar, leaving my friend with her ex gf at the Rose. She was pissed. No one wants to be left at the Wildrose. She texted to ask where I was and I told her I was a block away. She walked to that bar and camped outside, waiting for me.

Drunk me didn’t quite understand this and was definitely too busy hitting on the pretty girl to remember. When we left the bar again, my friend chased after me and finally caught up with us across the block. She was livid. Here I was, just chasing tail, and completely forgetting about her. She was freaking out that I was going to leave her on the Hill, stranded and with no place to stay.

I felt, at the time, that the best thing to do would be to give her my house key and call it even. Problem solved! Drunk logic! Super smooth…

knope-drunk

My out of town visitor was not impressed. By the time I arrived home with the pretty girl, she had vented to all of my roommates about my shitty, drunken actions. And my arrival did not disappoint. I was hammered. The pretty girl was hammered. What a pair!

What happened next? Well, let’s just say that the pretty girl thought that bad lesbian sex wasn’t possible and I definitely proved her wrong that night.

In the morning, I woke up groggy, hungover, and with no clue I wasn’t anything but smooth and awesome (as I normally am). I drove her to her car and gave her my river floating inner tube to borrow in the hopes that it would mean I’d see her again. Smooth plan, right?

Wrong.

I tried texting to ask what she was up to a couple days later and could easily see it wasn’t going anywhere. Our mutual friend (Blacked Out Moves night girl) later informed me that the pretty girl intended to give the inner tube back to her to give to me. Burn.

And really, that should be the end of it. That is where all my dating mishap stories end, right? But this time is a little different…

what

Our mutual friend was throwing a party and put a large group of lesbians on a group chat about it. I knew the pretty girl was on the chat but figured she wasn’t interested anyways so I was just my silly, nerdy self. I sent the gif of our rainbow Deathly Hallows flag at Sasquatch and asked if I should bring it to the party. The pretty girl thought it was amazing. This prompted her to look up my blog (the last post was titled “One Night Stand” and she had a brief moment of panic before realizing it wasn’t about her) and, to my (and, lezbehonest, everyone’s) surprise; she thought it was great. She started to doubt blowing me off. Who was this hilarious, nerdy girl that she had a terrible, terrible hookup with?

We bonded over our mutual love of Harry Potter and by the time the party started, she asked to be my Beirut partner. During one of our games, she pointed out that she has three freckles on her thigh that look like the Deathly Hallows symbol. I was smitten. By the end of the evening, she had referred to me as her “person… for the night, at least.”

My response at the time was that I was lucky to have even one night as her person.

greys_-_you_are_my_person

And I was right. I was really lucky to have that night. And I continue to be lucky every day she lets me continue to be her person.

A couple days after the party, we had our first date. I woke up at 5am that morning, unable to go back to sleep because I was so nervous and anxious about the date later that night. She tells me that when she arrived her hands went numb because she was so nervous. We were an adorable mess.

And we’ve been nearly inseparable ever since. That’s right, this story ends a little differently because this time, I got the happy ending. This time, I got the pretty girl. This time, I’m the lucky one.

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