Sunday, June 14, 2009
His name is Jorge. Jorge's original job was as the cake topper at the bachelorette party. But once the cake was served, the bride-to-be removed him from the cake, licked off the icing, handed him to me and told me that I'd be taking at least one guy home that nite.
And I'll tell you what... even though he was the only man who came home with me, this little guy proved very useful in starting conversations with many boys during Saturday nite's bachelorette festivities.
And what festivities they were.
The real party started around midnite when we left the Mercury Lounge and headed to the rooftop deck at The Velvet Dog. It was packed up there, the weather was awesome and everyone was feeling just tipsy enough to really get the party rolling.
The bride-to-be and many of her college friends were on a mission to find me a man.
And that's when we all saw him.
(Being 6'6", he was sorta hard to miss.)
So, with a few gin & tonics in my system and Jorge to back me up, I literally just walked right over and backed that thang up into the hottie. He was amenable (phew!), and we started chatting right away. Early on in our conversation, I learned that he had just moved to Cleveland last week from Chicago because he's starting his 3-year residency here.
And so was born McSizzle. (Even hotter than McSteamy or McDreamy.)
McSizzle and I chatted for quite a bit (at least, in tipsy/bar terms it was a while). But then I actually felt sorta bad ditching the party (even though everyone was watching the whole conversation from afar anyhow), so when I had to use the little girls' room I decided that I'd head straight back to the bachelorette group after I did. But as I did so, McSizzle grabbed my arm and pulled me over to talk to him again. Hmm... a definite sign of interest, no?
He was funny, cute, smart and outgoing. Tall, athletic build. Nice hands and teeth. Cool name. Told me I was the first Cleveland friend that he had made (he was there with other residents who were from out of town too), and suggested that he'd like to hang out again.
But as McSizzle and I talked, an honest-to-goodness So You Think You Can Dance-esque dance-off started, and our attention quickly turned to the craziness that ensued. I can honestly say I have never seen something like that in my life.
(And that's saying something, considering I have seen blogdad dirty dance with every single one of my friends.)
Let me try to paint the scene for you. Do you know the scene in the movie The Ten Commandements when Moses parts the Red Sea? Yeah, it was kinda like that, except in this scene, the "sea" was actually spilled beers and Jack & Cokes, and the "parting" was actually the formation of a giant dance circle, where various men entered trying to one-up the previous guy's moves in an effort to win the affections of our dear bachelorette.
There was the "jumping up and down" guy. (Actually, there were several.)
And the "pull my shirt over my head" guy.
Then "the worm" guy.
And "the breakdancer" guy.
Even McSizzle got in on the action at one point. (And, man. That boy could move.)
(Somewhere in there was also a 10-second boob flash from one of our party attendants. But I'm trying to erase that from my memory.)
So here's the problem... somewhere in the craziness of the 10-minute SYTYCD ridiculousness, I lost sight of McSizzle. Before I had a chance to pull the business card trick on him.
So now I'm left to wonder... should I "accidentally on purpose" hurt myself and head to the ER in the hopes of seeing him again... or just trust that Jorge has other plans in mind for me and see what's waiting in the second half of JDMFJCS June?