My friend Hills Larry greeted me, Crème suit; yes, suit and matching Converse. This is how the young, up and coming, soon to be rich, L.A. guys did it. They wore suits and lived their future status now by splitting someone's mortgage to project the "kind of a big deal" image .
I made my way to the outdoor patio on the third story overlooking the city and couldn’t’ help but smile as I looked around at all the “potentials”. After surveying the crowd, I made my way to where the action was, Beer Pong. I zeroed in on two targets, Scott and Matt, two of the hottest there and current beer pong champs. Scott, your typical (in L.A. anyway) great body, smart, funny, cute blond. Matt, his also funny, hot but not too hot, side kick , aka the nicer Larry was standing next to him. Why is it nice guy and asshole guy are always paired up? As I stood enjoying the festivities, guy whose name is irrelevant, walks up to introduce himself. Hi, I’m Mr. wearing a scarf and a short sleeve black shirt and look strangely European. Well, that’s not what he said, but that’s what I interpreted. Scarf continued to make small talk, as I looked for my escape route to Scott and/or Matt and considered which of the two I wanted. I decided, cute but not too cute was the way to go as I had been burned before with the hot guys; non-committal and impossible to keep.
After much eye play on my part and sensing Matt’s apparent interest, I took the lead and went over to Matt to engage him in conversation. What’s your name, you look familiar? Works every time, lame or not. “It’s snakes eyes,” Matt says with a knowing grin.
Several drinks later, the thousand dollar booze and mixer supply was dwindling and as I stood in the kitchen uncertain what to get, I hear a voice say, “guess we are all out of vodka, so can’t make you a drink, but maybe you’ll make me take you out for drinks sometime”, it was Scott. Huh. Not a bad line, I must admit, but… Pause. I had already decided I wasn’t going for him and would take-up his “nicer” friend instead. The universe was testing me, and i knew it, but how could i not reward that line and smile. I crumbled, and gave hot guy Scott my number, even though Matt already had it. Fail.
I somehow managed to escape with Matt undetected and the next day we woke up fully clothe in his bed. Even though we didn’t have sex, the morning goodbye was still weird. He said, “thanks again for letting me crash, you’re sweet.” You’re are sweet, is that code for I thought we were going to have sex? LOL. Or was it, I know my friend has your number? In the end, it was a disaster, I ended up confessing I had given them both my number and gave up on salvaging either. I suppose trying to pick between two of the hottest guys isn't a wise choice at a party. In the future, lesson learned. I suggest doing more recon onsite before making any selections and definitely avoid zeroing in on the two hot guy friends.
Monica Santa
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