Earl Grey (drinksearlgrey) wrote, @ 2009-01-01 12:17:00

cute Tacoma blonde
E-mail conversation

The night all started with this Craigslist ad (censored personal details in italics):

Tired of playing with myself...Wanna have a drink? - w4m - 33 (Tacoma)

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Reply to: pers-xxxxxxxxx@craigslist.org ^[?]
Date: 2008-12-28, 9:07PM PST

I am a cute blonde, hwp, clean and dd free. I have the night off, and i want to play some pool, have a few drinks and enjoy myself. Does anyone have any suggestions of a good bar in or around Tacoma where I could have a good time and maybe meet a good time?

Tacoma is a long drive, but this is the best ad I've seen in a while, so I figured I'd give it a shot. I replied:

Date: Sun, 28 Dec 2008 21:35 -0800 (PST)
From: [my e-mail address]
Subject: [Name of a bar in Tacoma]
To: pers-xxxxxxxxx@craigslist.org

I don't know Tacoma very well, but the other night someone suggested [Name of a bar in Tacoma]. If that sounds good, I can be there in about an hour. If that sounds fun, we can trade pictures.

[I quoted her ad text, which helps avoid confusion if I've replied a bunch of ads.]

She replied ten minutes later:

Date: Sun, 28 Dec 2008 21:45 -0800 (PST)
From: [her e-mail address]
Subject: RE: [Name of a bar in Tacoma]
To: [my e-mail address]

That sounds good, or maybe [name of a different bar in Tacoma]?

[Her reply included a quote of my mail.]

That sounds promising. I've never heard of the place, but it was easy enough to Google for it. (And that's enough of the full e-mail headers.)

Date: Sun, 28 Dec 2008 21:54

I don't know Tacoma very well, but it looks fine to me from the web site.
This is the place, right? [Link to the bar she suggested.]

I'm six feet tall, slender-athletic build (about xxx pounds), blue eyes, brown hair, and nice legs. That sound good too?

She took ten minutes to reply:

Date: Sun, 28 Dec 2008 22:04

yes, that is the place.  I will be there.  [Her first name]

Excellent! I had to make sure I'd be able to pick her out of the crowd:

Date: Sun, 28 Dec 2008 22:07

In case there is more than one cute blonde there, how do I recognize you?

She replied quickly:

Date: Sun, 28 Dec 2008 22:10

You will know, you will know.  I am the one who isn't a college cutie.

I checked the travel time on Google Maps before answering:

Date: Sun, 28 Dec 2008 22:19

OK, I hope that's enough information. You don't want me going home with the wrong cute blonde, do you? Anyway, I'm heading out the door now. I'll drive fast. Should be there around 11:20, unless traffic is weird.

She hadn't realized how far I was agreeing to drive:

Date: Sun, 28 Dec 2008 22:23

Where are you driving from?  It is only 10:20 now.

I checked the travel time on Google Maps before answering:

Date: Sun, 28 Dec 2008 22:26

I'm coming from [My city]. I just put the address into my GPS thing. It says I should be there at 11:17. I'll be wearing a black coat.

She apparently decided it was OK that I'd take a while to get there:

Date: Sun, 28 Dec 2008 22:30

ok then I will see you there, I will be in black too.

At the bar

I made sure my hygiene was in order: shaved, teeth brushed, etc. I grabbed the GPS gadget and the "sex kit" (a bag with condoms, a dental dam, and mouth wash). I put on shoes and coat, and got in the car.

I drove as fast as I could without worrying about exceeding the safe limit or getting a speeding ticket. I had a close call on the latter, almost passing a pair of police motorcycles at a speed of about 73 miles per hour (in a 60 zone), but I noticed the police markings and slowed down before they noticed me. Aside from that, the trip was without incident. Thanks to the speeding, I arrived at 11:14 pm, three minutes ahead of the original estimate.

I walked through the entire bar, and no one showed signs of looking around for someone who was looking for someone else. I stepped outside and checked in the smoking shelter; no one fit the description there either.

When I came back inside, the bartender asked what I was looking for, and I said I was meeting someone. He suggested I check the other sections, but asked for an ID check first. Was that habit, flattery, or honest uncertainty about my age? Hard to say.

I settled at the bar and ordered orange juice. I didn't want alcohol until I knew whether I'd be hanging around long enough for any alcohol to wear off so I could drive safely.

I sipped for few minutes, then took another look through the place. No luck. I returned to the bar.

At some point, I figured I should specifically ask women who might fit the description whether they were in fact the right person. Way in the back, I saw a fairly attractive blonde woman wearing black and gray, apparently somewhat older than most of the crowd there, playing pool. At one end of the bar, I saw a somewhat heavy, apparently thirty-something woman with dirty-blonde hair, wearing a black motorcycle jacket, talking with another large, muscular woman.

I asked each of them, "Are you [Her first name]?"

Both said no. One of them – I couldn't quite remember which – added, "lots of blondes wearing black in here tonight." There actually weren't a lot of blondes wearing black, just those two, but I didn't debate the point.

I returned to the bar and continued sipping my juice. I made a couple more walks through the place, even though I didn't really expect to see more people, because I could see the door from the bar and I hadn't seen any arrivals in a while. Occasionally people left for the night.

At some point, the motorcycle jacket woman asked what I was doing.

I replied something along the lines of, "I was hoping to meet someone here. Blind dates really suck sometimes."

She said something like, "It's been a long time since I've had a blind date."

Her tone neither shut down conversation nor invited more. But I couldn't think of much more to say, so I didn't say anything.

When my juice was empty, and I had tired of munching the ice, I took another look around the place. I wandered over to the stacks of newspapers along the wall, aimlessly paged through the Seattle Weekly, and looked over the covers of The Stranger and a Tacoma-area weekly. They didn't really help pass the time.

I noticed a young-looking blondish woman, not wearing black but dressed fairly dark, talking endlessly on her cell phone. I thought about asking her, but when she finally finished her call – probably close to an hour long – she settled at a table with four other young-looking people. That didn't seem likely to be the right person, so I didn't approach.

More people left, and the crowd thinned. As one party left, I thought I heard someone say [Her first name] from outside, before the door shut behind them. I wasn't sure I heard the name, and I thought about running out and asking whether someone had said the name. But while I hesitated the people in that party dispersed.

I continued to wait around, finally giving up at about 12:30 am, about an hour and a quarter after I had arrived. I got in the car, shouted a grunt of anger, and drove home. The drive went without incident.

More e-mail

When I got home, I took care of a few things, then checked my e-mail, wondering what I might find. I had a weird surprise. She had apologized:

Date: Mon, 29 Dec 2008 00:55

[My first name],

Would you hate me if I told you that your instincts were right.  The blonde you asked was me.  I apologize for not being honest with you.  I am playing it safe, because i don't want to set myself up to be in danger or anything like that.
    You are cute, a lot like [A male celebrity].  Seriously.  I didn't know what to expect.  Honestly, I didn't think anyone would drive here from [My city] or anywhere outside of Tacoma without knowing more about who they were meeting.  Why did you drive from [My city], honestly?
I would even be more than willing to drive and see you now that I know you aren't the stalker type.  at least you don't appear to be.  You seem to be the type of man rarely found around here, employed and obviously ambitious.

Apologies,

[Her first name]

Although I could reasonably have been even nastier, my reply was still pretty harsh:

Date: Mon, 29 Dec 2008 01:55

I asked two blonde women whether they were [Her first name]. Were you the one at the end of the bar or in the back playing pool?

Meeting in a public place like that is playing it safe. Saying no when someone asks your name in a reasonably safe setting seems more like playing games. Even if you wanted to observe for a while from a safe distance, you could have at least approached later and said you wanted to check me out for a while before identifying yourself. Or you could have invited conversation until you dared confess the initial caution, so I wouldn't be sitting around bored on a barstool for an hour and a quarter, drinking orange juice and watching lame television with no sound.

Why drive all the way from [My city]? Because I was home alone bored after snow had shut down pretty much anything fun to do for more than a week, and you seemed more sincere than a woman in Everett who was flirting in e-mail with me at the same time.

As for a being stalker, if I were, why would I bother stalking someone 42 miles away when there are plenty of people I could stalk around here?

[I explained why I have lots of free time.] Having [all that time] leaves me free to do stupid stuff like driving to Tacoma on a whim.

Meet again? Maybe I'll think about it after the steam stops coming out of my ears.

She continues to acknowledge that she screwed up:

Date: Mon, 29 Dec 2008 19:29

Fair enough.  I do appreciate your candor.  Let me know when you are finished steaming, that is if you still want to get together.

[Her first name]

I figured I'd see whether anything could be salvaged from the wasted time, assuming she was the woman I thought she was:

Date: Mon, 29 Dec 2008 21:30

OK, since I haven't seen a lot of ads tonight other than the usual phonies, I'll consider it. Can you describe where you were in the bar, and more specifically what you were wearing?

She doesn't realize that the other blonde wearing black wasn't one of the "college cuties". She's also eager to make up for her misdeed:

Date: Tue, 30 Dec 2008 02:07

I am the gal that told you that there sere "lots of blondes wearing all black."  Seriously, I couldn't have blended enough to look like a college cutie.  If I did then I am grateful to the good Lord, because I thought I stood out like a sore thumb.

I am going to bed. sweetie.  I spent the day cleaning house, packing up Christmas stuff, and thinking of ways in which to make up for the drive you took to get here.

Goodnight, sleep tight.................


[Her first name]

I thought I remembered who made the "lots of blondes wearing all black" remark, but I had to clarify. And I gave her a hint about something I like:

Date: Tue, 30 Dec 2008 06:00

Ahh, way in the back of the pool room?

Hint: I like massages.

Good news: she is the cute blonde, like she said:

Date: Wed, 31 Dec 2008 22:02

Yes, that was me. Are you still angry with me?

Happy New Year. No fireworks celebration for me as I will be at work until 4:30 am.

[Her first name]

Events of the night before (which I will describe in another journal entry) had made me a bit more understanding of her impulsive misdeed:

Date: Thu, 1 Jan 2009 07:01
Subject: New Year

No, it's OK. I appreciate your effort to apologize. I had a date last night, and I was quite tempted to bail before it even started, which gives me a bit of understanding of your misbehavior the other night.

[I summarized my tedious New Year's Eve date in about a paragraph.]

So, definitely no fireworks celebration for me either. Do you have any interesting plans for the new year? I think I'll start by writing "2009" on my checks, so I don't write the date wrong next time I pay bills.

[I finally changed the subject line, which has been off-topic since about the second message.]

So, that's the story of the cute Tacoma blonde, as it stands on New Year's Day. She seems attracted. She clearly wants to make up for her misdeed. Maybe she'll find a way.