I Should've Stopped After Date #1

Eat before a date. Especially if the date is at a wine tasting.
I had 5 glasses of wine on an empty stomach. You must be thinking what a lush I must’ve been.

Actually, those 5 glasses didn’t take effect until later that night—when the problems arose. I was cool during the date, met people, held my own, let him teach me about the wine, and even did the ‘I’m into you’ touches. Date was so great.
So great that not even half an hour after the date was over, when I was feeling the effects of the alcohol back in my apartment, did he call and ask me back out for dinner that night.

Dinner was with a group of his friends, so I took my friend. It was great for me, not so much for my friend. J.J. was leaning into me, hand on thigh, making jokes with me, and then invited us out some more to the bar. And there was more wine…so not helping my later self (we’ll get to that in a moment) because at this point in time, I’m okay, I have just enough wine in me, that I am flirty, witty, and cutey.

My friend doesn’t want to go to the bar and since I had plans with her from the get go, it made sense for us to leave and do our own thing. Next bar and another drink for me, we met some married man and his bachelor party of friends. Bored and wanting to dance, we left for Tribeca. It’s my new fave place.
With a new fresh drink, I texted J.J. and told where we were; he texted back that he was on his way. Holla. Let me now say, I am what would be officially drunk.

I start talking to some random surgeon—who was cute, but lives in New York City and was in town for a wedding. My friend is not having a good time and cannot handle the smoke; so we head outside and then back in to the dance floor. Lo and behold there is J.J.

We start to dance, and then my friend says she is leaving…so it is just me and him, dancing, and him begging me for one more song each time I try to make my way to the bar—where I obviously didn’t need to go. Crap song came on and we went to the bar.
Yes, another drink for me, yippee, but when I turn around there is some chick with J.J. ----he introduced us and led me back to his group of friends. Introductions all ‘round were made and then he leaned in and told me that he had to go meet some more folks.

Now, what I am about to tell you all happened in the span of less than 5 minutes and this is where my drunk self became stupid:

After he left me, my instincts went to a bad place. For some odd reason I felt like the girl that was not really invited, my friend left me and it seemed to (drunk) me that J.J. was also abandoning me. Everything told me to leave right away. I’ve been there and done this before and it only gets worse the longer you hang out as the uninvited one. I chugged my drink and my got some pride and left. I went home, no good byes, no see ya later waves, nothing.

Of course once home I made plenty of phone calls, re-telling the night and how it sorely ended. Once everyone who was awake at one in the morning heard the news, I washed my face (nah—I think I took a shower) and got ready for bed. I looked at my phone: 7 missed text messages all from him asking where the heck I was.
I called him back, long story short: He came to Tribeca alone to meet up with me, ran into the group of friends at the door, saw me flirting with NYC Surgeon, decided to stay with his friends, then took his chance with me dancing, he turned his back to meet some random friend he hadn’t seen in years, turned back around and I was gone.
Drunk does as drunk does.
I apologized (I think) and hung up. Hour later he sent me another text: I had a wonderful time with you today.
Yeah I’m calling him to see if he is open for another date and this time the wine will be limited to 2 glasses.

Lesson? It’s like those dumb fools said on “How to Get the Guy”; don’t overdo it on date #1. Learned? I hope so.