breathe in, laugh out

I’m sitting in my car in Mexico waiting for Olive Garden to bring food out for a doctor’s office, so I figured I’d start a post.  I might not actually be in Mexico, I don’t know… but there’s border control everywhere and my car thermometer says 119 degrees.  I think they might be looking for my sister’s new Mexican lover, Tonto.

So I’ve only been out in SoCal for two weeks, but I’ve already made some general notes about the men here:

1.  They’re lazy

2.  They don’t care that they’re lazy

3.  The lazier they are, the cooler they think they are

4.  “The waves are totally tubular dudeeeee”

5.  They expect you to go hiking with them

6.  They’re pretty sexual… surfer-sexual

So I’ll start you out here with my first dude story…. There was Jake [from State Farm].  Jake from State Farm somehow matched with me on Tinder at some point when Carissa and I were in the dead middle of the country on our drive out here.  Don’t ask me how, because that game is based upon your proximity to each other.  All I can think of is that he originally swiped right on me (swipe right = “I’m interested”) when I was out visiting San Diego in early July, so I guess he automatically popped up once I started playing the game again during the drive.  He was “surfer sexual.”  Long(ish) wavy hair, an awesome tan, baby blue eyes and some scruff on his chiseled face.  When he messaged me and asked why I was 2000 miles away, I explained, and he told me there would be beers waiting for us at the finish line once we arrived in Pacific Beach.  He conveniently lives in Mission Beach, about a mile away.  Okay… I’ll take it.

We messaged intermittently over the week.  We progressed to texting.  Then when we finally arrived, we were obviously BUSY, but he was persistent in wanting us to cash in on those beers.  Persistent to the point of CALLING me after I told him I was busy car shopping with my sister.  Okok.

So we arrived on a Friday afternoon.  That Sunday was obviously reserved as Funday.  Carissa and I hit up a spot on the beach for beers, and Jake from State Farm said he was going to come meet us.  As we’re sitting there at a table on the deck sharing a pitcher, Carissa burps loudly, as she does, and then looks up and says “Jake?”

I guess she recognized him from the Tinder pictures she saw.  I didn’t know he was going to be there so soon, so I wasn’t even on the lookout.  It was him.  I think the first thing I said to him was “Oh, hi.  I have that same shirt.”

I don’t know why I said that.  It was just a white cotton button down.  I guess I’d categorize it as “classy surfer-casual.”  He looked good.  As good as his photos.  But when he finally took his aviator sunglasses off when sunset hit, he looked even better.  His eyes were super blue and went nicely with his tanned surfer skin and natural dirty blonde highlights.  This, my friends, is usually not my type…. buttttttttt “when in SoCal….”

We started talking.  Soon, my friend Tier, and roommate V came to join us.  Jake from State Farm and I talked a lot about random things, and he admitted he was tracking our journey by clicking on my Tinder page over the past week to see how many miles away we were.  We discussed a book that has a lot of meaning to me, even though I’ve never read it.  I decided he was the sign I needed to allow myself to read it.  Weird?  Yeah… we were sort of on the same weird wavelength.

The sun was down and our group decided to move on to another bar along the boardwalk.  Jake from State Farm very well could have taken this as his cue to say “nice to meet you,” and go on his merry way.  But instead, he suggested another bar that was hopping, and offered me a ride on his beach cruiser.  The group got a head start on foot, and I hopped on the back of his bike, standing on the pegs.  He rode me down the boardwalk, with the night crew partying at the bars to our right, and the calm ocean on our left.

We got to the next place which was a little more rowdy than the daytime beach scene.  When dance music comes on, I like to act like an idiot.  Half to mock the people actually dancing, and half because I start laughing so hard, I can’t stop.  To my surprise, Jake from State Farm shared similar dance moves.  From the moment we started, we were in sync.  Our “moves” just jived perfectly, and we couldn’t have looked like bigger morons.  That was it.  I was in love.

Love… true, true love.  It was the Sunday before my first day of work, so I left to go home before the rest of the crew.  Jake from State Farm left too, but had his bike, so we said goodbye and parted ways as he headed back to Mission Beach and I grabbed a cab back home.  When I got home I sat around for a bit, and V came in soon after.  I told her,

“We’re in love!”

She knew.

I was obviously not being serious…. at all…. but this combination of a common novel, and our off-the-wall dance moves kept me intrigued.  We texted that night, and both admitted we had Facebook stalked each other.  We said we’d love to see each other again soon.

Then…. nothing.

Nothing I tell ya.  Nothing.  One, maybe two random boring texts, with long breaks in between responses over the next two days.  That was it.  Kaput.

Jake from State Farm, W……T…….F?

My sister says, “Get over it, he’s not your type anyway.”

“Maybe not, but I just don’t get it.”

“He’s short.”

“But he’s a good dancer.”

“Neither of you is a good dancer.”

“That’s the point.”

It’s true… he’s not my typical “type…”  But that was kind of also the point.    Two Sundays ago, “surfer-sexual” was my type.  Jake from State Farm… he was my type.  And now…. poof.  Into the wind…. like the cloud of smoke from all the drugs he probably does.  He’s gone.  See you never, my sexual friend.  See you never….

xoxo Gossip Girl