"Kiss Me Fool"

A very dear friend called me recently to ask if I wanted to grab a drink with her that evening. Since I was off the following day from work and it was pitcher night at one of my favorite bars, she certainly didn't have to twist my arm very hard. I was also very excited about the prospect of seeing her and spending some quality girl time. I picked her up and we headed downtown to start what would be the first of several pitchers that evening.

As with any girls' night, the talk moved in the direction of the male sex. At this point, the friend felt compelled to apologize to a former fling who had rather gentlemanly held her hair back and rubbed her back as she was bent over my porch railing a few weeks prior. Text messages followed, and before we knew it he was on his way to the bar with a friend to meet us for drinks. The friend he brought also happened to be a guy I knew from high school, who I'll call Turtle for reasons that will be obvious soon. We shared quite a few pitchers that evening, and somehow our conversation evolved to the subject of hot tubs. At this point, Turtle asked a theoretical question as to whether or not I would go back to his place if he promised me a dip in the hot tub. You see, he was contemplating the idea and was conducting a very scientific research study to qualify his purchase. As many of you know, I have an affinity for hot tubs, so my official reply to the study was yes. Those of you who have conducted research in the past know that any legitimate study must have a control subject, which happened to be the question of whether I would return to his place since he didn't have said hot tub. My official reply to this question was maybe. As the bar began to close, my friend and I held a conference in the ladies' room in which we agreed to return to the Turtle's house for at least a little bit.

My friend and I were not sure of the best way to arrive at the house, so we split up and her interest rode with me. He questioned what I thought of the Turtle, mentioned that I was definitely the Turtle's type, and explained that I may have to make the first move. My response was that I do not make the first move, particularly when I have very little evidence of said interest. Therefore, when we arrived at the house, the boys were forced to have a little pep talk as the Turtle originally started to do laundry. We later went in the living room and began to watch a movie, and shortly after my friend and her interest left the living room and moved to the other bedroom. I thought to myself, maybe now he will finally make a move on me! I was sadly mistaken though and found myself transported back to the high school game of "Will He or Won't He." It started with a hand on my thigh, slowly progressing to hand holding, then his head on my shoulder as he put his arms around me. My best guesstimate would be that almost an hour and a half later, he finally kissed me! He then suggested that as the couch was not very comfortable, we move to his bedroom. He was a perfect gentleman as we lay there talking, me laying on top of him as he scratched my back and mixing in an occasional kiss. As I rolled over to go to sleep, he earned major bonus points as he turned to spoon me, entwine my fingers with his, and every now and then kiss my shoulder. I guess the fable about the turtle proves true because clearly slow and steady wins the race!