The Chess Player

17 Mar

You know sometimes on a Friday all you want to do is crawl in bed. As you’re settling in for the afternoon thinking about what you’ll do for dinner one of your friends calls and convinces you to go out for a drink.  So you grumble under your breath while you get dressed and do your make up and say yourself, “I’m going to stay out for max two drinks, and I’ll be in my flannel jammies by 8:30.”  You drive downtown because uber is stupid expensive due to peak hours and think that driving will make it easier for you to sneak out early.  And oh look, a princess parking spot in front of the bar!

You’re winning already.

You head upstairs, see your friends and think it’s a good idea to start with a gin and tonic (extra limes) because your friends have been drinking beer since noon and you kinda feel like you should catch up even though you’re going to stay out for max two drinks.  More people start arriving and it turns out they work for your old company and so you start making all of the connections and someone asks you why your drink is empty and you order some water because you’re pacing yourself because you’ll have to drive home later.  And then it’s time to order an orange crush and you are talking to your friend’s boyfriend and he asks what you’re drinking and when you tell him he tells you you’re “crushin it” and you can’t help but lolz.

That’s when he introduces you to the tall drink of water who just moved to the area a few months ago.  He’s 33.  He’s smart.  He’s interesting.  You casually sip your drink while you flirt with him for awhile.  You’re introduced to other people who end up standing between the two of you so you move on and glance over every once in awhile and he keeps looking at you.

You’re finishing your drink and it’s time to go home.  Some of your friends are getting ready to leave for another bar and you’re going to go ahead and go and then the tall drink of water asks, “are you coming?” as he’s being dragged out the door.  Game time decision here.  That’s when you say to your other friends, “let’s go for one drink.”

So you find yourself walking 10 blocks to the next bar and when you get there he’s saved you a seat and asks you if he can buy you a drink.  Meanwhile you’re thinking, “what the fuck is happening and why the hell not?”  Because when was the last time you went out to a bar, met someone who was cute and charming who wanted to buy you a drink and who you wanted to flirt with?  You sit down and order the drink and he sits next to you.  When two more seats become available he holds the seats and your friends try to cock block you and you say, “no, no, you sit here and I’ll move down,” so you can sit next to him.

You sit your ass down on that barstool and you order another drink.  You find yourself talking about travel, and work, and family, and regrets, and basketball, and moving to a new city, and all sorts of stuff while he gazes at you with his blue eyes.  You start talking about chess and find out he’s one of those guys who can read all the moves in advance and you ask him if he can do that in life and he tells you, “usually.”  You wonder if he already knows how this is going to play out and if he’s calculating what moves he’ll make to get the outcome he wants.  You ask yourself, “I wonder if he knows how old I am?”  Obviously you look for an opportunity to drop it into the conversation and when you do he doesn’t blink an eye, he just goes with it.

Your other friends decide they’re going to leave, so only the two of you are left.

The Chess Player keeps gazing at you and he grabs your hands, and he gives you this look, and you ask, “what’s that look?” He responds, “I’m thinking about kissing you,” as he tugs your hands towards him and you lean forward.  That’s when you start making out at the bar.  In the middle of March Madness.  Surrounded by people cheering on UMBC.  It’s just the two of you.  Suddenly it’s 10:30.  You’ve been at the bar over three hours.  Where did the time go?

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” he asks.  You find yourself saying, “yes”.  He picks up the tab and you walk the 10 blocks back to your car to drive to his place.  You’re thinking, “am I really going home with this guy?  Yes, yes I am.”  When was the last time you went home with someone you met at a bar?  Was it college?  Shortly after, at least 10 years ago.  A lifetime ago.  Sure, you had an exceptional romp the night before – thanks to Tinder – but this is the type of chemistry real life has produced.

Why not just go with it?

You’re at his place.  It’s pretty swanky.  Incredible view of the city.  Then you’re on the couch and your top is on the floor, quickly followed by just about everything else and he says, “we can always go in there,” gesturing to his bedroom.  You hop off his lap and lead him into his room and crawl into his bed.  There you proceed to lose every last stitch of clothing and remain for the next couple of hours.

When it’s done, he wraps his arms around you and you lay there and talk about work and whatever and nothing and he says, “you’re hot, you know that.  Right?”  You say, “thank you.” and think to yourself, “maybe I’m kinda decent looking if I’ve made out with four guys in eight days and ended up in various states of undress with each of them.”  You ask him if he had played this out and calculated the moves it would take to get to his bedroom.  He says, “yes.”  He tells you he’d read the signals.  There were only two options, yes or no, and the signals all pointed to yes.

He says, “you can stay.”  You get up and get dressed, he asks for your number.  You walk out.  He texts you before you get to the car.

You think to yourself, “I’m a fucking sex panther.”

Reset the counter.

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3 Responses to “The Chess Player”

  1. Grey Goose, Dirty March 17, 2018 at 10:50 am #

    *Someone* is having one hell of a week! I haven’t been picked up in a bar in ages! Go you!

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. It’s your move | Bridget Jones Has Nothing On Me - March 20, 2018

    […] guess who has been awfully chatty over the last few days?  Looks like the Chess Player still has some moves he’s looking to […]

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