...so, on Labor Day, I got a surprising invite from one of my NYC DnD-playing buddies, who has been absent for weeks because he's learning the language of his new fiancee's homeland. This love stuff. Oi what it can make you do.
He invited me to a frisbee-throwing leisure event at Sheep's Meadow, which is this big lawn in Central Park where the sunbathers worship Sol for every ounce of carcinoma they can sacrifice. I've never been attracted in the least bit, except for all the gorgeous bodies awash in tanning lotion, which can number in the hundreds on a weekend. It's like Manhattan's equivalent of a beach.
So I met him first, and then these other people from other walks of his life. Two guys and a girl. The guys were endearingly average. Good senses of humor, pot bellies, non DnD players, NYC professionals living on the island, awkwardly still single, good $$ earners. Then comes the girl.
The girl is Irish. Like my friend who invited me. The girl has brunette hair and blue eyes. The girl has an Irish brogue. The girl is captivating to me. So there's the five of us on a blanket, awash in athletic men and women and I'm talking to the Irish Girl. Learning her profession and she's learning mine. And I distinctly feel an exclusivity going on. Out of the five people on this blanket, three of us guys are single, two of which are white and one of which is also Irish (only Americanized, third generational). But here we are, me and her, chatting up a storm.
The other two already know her, and so I see they didn't need to jump into the convo, but I still felt awkward, so I applied the brakes and addressed them as I had done before she arrived fashionably late. However, they went scarpering off to some event, leaving the party planner, me and the Irish Girl behind.
Cutting to the chase is that I enjoyed the Irish Girl. When, however, we three got up to leave I went utterly superficial. She was a bit taller than me. Slumped a bit. She walked like a rugby player. But then, as opposed to the greeting (a nice safe handshake) she hugged me goodbye. And when I said, "we have to get together another time!" she responded "Definitely!"
Well, before I blogged about it, I texted the party planner and asked him if Irish Girl was single. And he said yes, and did I detect a vibe? And I said I thought so, and was I being foolish? And he responding aren't we all, and how did I want to arrange this.
And I froze up. But I did tell him that I had to consult my advisors.
Yeah, that's you guys.
The Party Planner knows nothing of all this bisexuality going on up in here. With him and the other gang, I play a 12th level wizard with high stats in Strength, Dexerity, and constitution. That means he's a hunk. So I play him like one. Like a arrogant, powerful, exhibitionist wizard. I have him doing calisthenics in only a loincloth in the AMs when we travel. The DM has seen fit to pander to my posturing by having a longterm woman enter the campaign and allow my character to get shtupped on the regular (until he threw a massive spanner into the gears, as DMs are wont to do). But the point is, I roleplayed a very masculine guy, and entered the shoes of the kind of person I wanted to be, and had/have a great time doing it.
So the Party Planner has that kind of general impression of me (because I am a bit hunkish, if I do say so myself, and Party Planner said I have a great voice). And in the back of my mind, I think he may have even set up the meeting for the sake of his single Irish friend and I bit in, hook and line, with the sinker trailing closely along my flank as I try swimming for safer waters. So possibly this girl might have been sold a bill of goods fraudulently.
And my Tribe, I know what you're already going to say, and I love you for it.
But tell me anyway.
To date or not to date?