Karma & the Kitten

I need a nap. This was a roller coaster of the weekend that saw ups, downs, laughter, a few tears and more whiskey than one should probably consume in a three day period. The drama started on Friday with the ending of a relationship that probably should have come far sooner than it did. I freely admit that for some unknown reason I have spent the last several months unknowingly (ok, I might have had a small clue) sabotaging that relationship. Two years and I just couldn't make the commitment he deserved. Sigh. Typical me......perfect man and I get restless. I decided to swear off men for awhile.

Of course I did. Never swear to anything.....it will come back to bite you. Let's fast forward (or rewind, depending on how you look at it) to Sunday - it's football day!!!! I wake up excited at the thought of a full day of watching football and relaxing after the drama. Not only is it football day, but the Vikings have a bye week which means I can enjoy my Saints and my Texans without the distracting and often raucous antics of the Purple People Eater fans. I dress myself up in my Texans T-shirt (pink, of course!) and Saints hat (I have to show love for both teams and no, I don't care that I don't match. This is football, for the love!!!). Then it's off to Buffalo Wild Wings to meet my friend Gimp for some booze and football. As I'm getting ready to enter the restaurant I get a text message from Gimp saying he wouldn't be there for another hour and a half. I am now left with two options. I can either suck it up and watch ESPN for an hour or go home and watch whatever depressing news show my dad is has on until Gimp can get off work to meet me.

It takes me about a split second to to decide that ESPN is a far better choice, so I settle myself at a table in the bar. After all, it's only 90 minutes and and for 30 minutes of that the games will be on. So I'm sitting there wishing desperately that the TV had some sound as the caption read "Ahman Green: Out for Houston" when he walks in. And takes a seat at the table next to mine. I notice because a) he has to walk right by me to get to his table b) he is by far one of the most beautiful men I've ever seen in my life (we're talking the perfect combination of Taye Diggs and Mos Def) and c) did I mention that he was beautiful????

Then he looks at me. I'm looking at him. Eye contact!! That's good, right? NO! That's not good! That's bad......very, very, very bad. I was there to watch football, not to make eyes at some random guy. Pull it together, Kitten! You are surrounded by 27 televisions all showing a different game. You're moving in three weeks. Nevermind that you just got out of a relationship less than 48 hours prior. You're moving in 3 weeks. Boys are not on the agenda right now, remember? Not even ones that look as yummy as a hot fudge brownie sundae. You're moving in 3 weeks.

Wait, did he just smile at me? Uh-oh.

He did smile at me. I smiled back. We have a moment. Now I'm not shy by any definition of the word but I just couldn't bring myself to talk to this guy. Maybe it was that I was worn out from an entire weekend of saying good-bye to friends and breaking off a 2 year relationship (even though it was the most amicable split in the history of man, it still stings a little). No, I tell myself, you do not need the complication. Then he speaks. To me. Seriously? We chat and invites me to sit with him. Because my brain has obviously left the building, I do. Well, that and I feel like a fool sitting in a bar by myself.

So we talk. We have a drink. We laugh. We have another drink. I impress him with my extensive knowledge of football. We have a shot because by now it's halftime and that means it's time for that shot of Petron I do every Sunday during the Texans game (I should add here that I am not the only one that does this. I just happen to be the only one in Minnesota). Mr. Beautiful is trying to teach me some game that involves calling the plays before they happen and I am getting dizzy trying to watch 3 games at one time. It could be the booze but I'm thinking it might have been the fact that this beautiful man is sitting with his leg pressed against mine. I'm suddenly finding it very hard to breathe.

Sadly, all good things come to an end and this was no exception. The games are over (Texans won by kicking a field goal with 1 second left in the game. Saints lost - AGAIN!!!) and it's time to go home. As I leave he asks for my number and again, because I'm practically swooning in his presence I give it to him. Not that I think he'll call.

But he did call. He called 5 hours later and asked if I'd like to meet him out at Old Chicago with some friends. It was 10 o'clock at night and I was already in my pajamas. I'm moving in three weeks. This man is beautiful. And nice. And smart and I'm moving in three weeks. Maybe I'm glutton for punishment, but I went. The conversation was excellent and the eye candy sweet. When I decided to leave he walked me to my car and ASKED MY PERMISSION to kiss me.

Ummm..............did he really think I would say no? Hell no! YES! The answer is a resounding yes!!! So he kissed me. And of course I kissed him back. It was a good kiss. No, it was a fantastic kiss. Meow!

And that, my friends, is how karma came back to haunt me. Wouldn't you know it that three weeks before I leave I meet someone interesting? Not only that but it happens two days after I break it off with a really wonderful guy. If that's not karma I don't know what is. He says he has 3 weeks to change my mind about moving. I think nothing will change my mind but it might be fun seeing him try.