Lying Dutchman

Wow. I went from a serious grandma (going to bed early, keeping to myself) to my old train wreck ways in one night. On Friday I went to the wine bar again. When my dutchman strolled in we had a quick chat. He had to work really early and was going to bed. This was our conversation:

Dutchman: Hello Canada.
Me: You still can't remember my name!
Dutchman: Does it matter?
Me: I guess not.
Dutchman: Do you remember my room number?
Me: Why? So I can come to your room and watch you sleep? You work early.
Dutchman: I'll wake up for you.
Me: Maybe ... baby. I must go to my friends and be social, and besides ... my wine is empty.

So I Drank. and Drank. Red Wine by the bottle. Karaoke bars are my weak point. I sang Elton John's 'your song' to a roaring applause. Of course I worked the room, got down on the floor and serenaded many. I'm sure it must have been 2 am when I stumbled to the dutchman's room. Poor guy was dead sober but still welcomed me with open arms. Two times makes it not a one night stand ... right? At least I got my sock back from the night before!

The rest gets pretty patchy from there. From what I've been told ... I sang and sang (It's 5 bucks to sing a song!) And was doing duets with journalists from work. Then ... I managed to find the ugliest british guy and was foolish. The reason I know this? He is friends with my coworker and the next day at work I was shamed by the photos. I don't know how I could go from having sex with a beautiful and experienced man to making out like mad with a british troll ... IN THE SAME NIGHT! The poor bloke tried to add me on facebook too. I don't want to be rude, but he truly is a troll. I was not thinking!

I took Saturday night off to recuperate. Two day hangovers are the worst ... My photo manager text me saturday night, telling me my dutchman was at the bar, looking lonely. I'm not going to lie ... I was tempted to go over there for round three.

Round three came Sunday night, but this time it got complicated. I googled him. Turns out he is quite a good photographer. Wins awards all over the world. I was quite proud to have nailed that actually ... until I saw his birth year. 1974. He is 40 years old! FORTY! Closer to my dad's age than mine! Yikes. I was shocked. I know age means nothing ... but my rule is no more than 10 years. 

My friend and I got to the wine bar early to watch the closing ceremonies. My dutchman's friends were there and sure got chatty with me. One of them is about fifty and wouldn't take his eyes off me. Slightly disturbing. I sang 'girls just wanna have fun' with my friend and put on a jolly good show. Then my dutchman walked in. Blazed right past me.

I sang another song, then sat at the back of the room where I was totally approachable. My next song was again, Elton John, and my dutchman got up and walked out. My heart dropped. I know my singing is terrible ... but enough for him to leave the room? After my performance (which was more epic than the night before) I went outside to sulk. This is when the 50 year-old friend approached me. We talked ... bad idea .... He told me my dutchman is married. My jaw dropped. This couldn't be. I could understand thursday night when we were both drunk out of our trees, but friday he was totally sober. Knew exactly what he was doing. Perhaps his avoidance came from guilt?

His friend brought me to another bar where my dutchman had gone. I approached him at the bar and we had 'the talk.' First of all about his age. He swears his website is wrong and he was born in '75 and is in fact 38. Regardless, he is still married. Which was our next topic of discussion. The dude has even been wearing his wedding ring. How could I have been so blind! 

I Told he must have HIM A woman in every city. He swore up and down he does not do this That Often. There's something about me that 'makes him hard.' I don't know why I reassured him that what's done is done and what happens in Russia stays in Russia. Despite knowing the truth, I still wanted him.

For the first time, I stayed in his room after sex. We held each other and talked. he wouldn't talk about his family, so he mostly asked me questions about myself. He still couldn't remember my name. We had sex again and again. He gave me one of the medals from the closing ceremony. Still no dutch pin ... I didn't leave until 6:45 am. Our post-coital cuddle made me feel the most guilty. I should have just left, but I couldn't. When I eventually got home at 7am, I had breakfast. I fell asleep at the table and got kicked out. Now I sit here, hungover as all hell, and can't believe how things changed so fast.