All the Single Ladies

I did something ballsy last night. Something that I haven't done in almost two years because the last time the outcome wasn't so great. I asked a guy for his number.

Here's the setting. My friends and I are drinking at a loud bar. The music is pumping from the speakers located directly above our heads, the drinks are flowing as we are toasting to my friend's upcoming move to Paris for six months, and my (slightly less glamorous) move to Louisville. The bartender chick serves us with a line-up of shots. I smell the rim of my shot glass and get a whif of sour, very alcoholic substance. I take a deep breath, clunk my shot glass with about six other ones raised in the air and take it all down in one gulp. As I place the now empty shot glass on a mahogany-colored bar counter and turn around to face the crowd, I catch a glimpse of a very sexy bouncer-type. As he makes his way through the crowd, indeed, I see the word "Staff" plastered on the back of his shirt with big bold yellow letters.

Eye candy, indeed, but I am being cautious. Almost two years ago I attempted to flirt with a bouncer who very firmly declined my advances with a puzzling "I don't talk to strangers" response. Douche. Regardless, I push the negative thoughts aside and watch the bouncer out of the corner of my eye as he's watching the crowd. Maybe it's the alcohol talking but I swear I see him glancing over in my direction once or twice. As my friends and I do a second round of shots and I fess up to them about my new crush, he changes his position and moves over closer to me. We are now standing back to back, as he is continuing to watch over the crowd. Why is he so close? My heart beats a bit faster and I let my inner school girl out for a moment by letting a barely audible giggle escape my lips.

A few hours later, my friends are ready to call it a night.

"Wait, I didn't get a chance to get his number yet..."

"Well do it now!" my Fabulous Friend impatiently urges. He's had enough of the bar scene and wants to get out.

"Okay, okay, I will. Just let me pay my bill first," I reply and make my way over to the bar and ask for my credit card check, "Before you close it out though, can you please charge me for another shot of SoCo and lime?"

The bartender nods and just a few seconds later I am face to face with a dangerous little shot glass filled with my favorite poison of choice. Just one more shot to make me braver. I take it down and make my way over to the Bouncer.

"Hey," I tap him on his shoulder. He turns around immediately. I gotta say what I need to say. Now.

"Hey, I think you are really cute. I wanted to ask you if you were single or not," I smiled at him with the most charming smile I could squeeze out of me. Here goes nothing.

"Yeah, yeah I am. What's your name? You're really cute too," he smiled and I almost melted. He was even sexier up close.

Long story short, he gots my number and I feel like I am back at the top of my game. Whether he'll call me or not is another story - I don't have much faith in random men these days. However, it was (as cliche as it might sound) quite liberating to take control and go for someone I really want. No more wishing and dreaming about what could have been. Taking charge is where it's at, and I am finally taking charge - one Bouncer at a time.