The Albanians were a group of guys from Albany, NY. We went to a bar down the street, had drinks, played pool, made fun of Canadian accents, and generally had a good time. (Side note: I am sensing a pattern here...) Rick, who self nominated himself as my Albanian, and I flirted throughout the evening and then we all headed back to the hotel. And that was when things went well, went south and and went well south. As I was making out with Rick in the hotel hallway outside of my and Darr's room, the people in the room next door came out and told us to be quiet...I'm not sure what they were hearing, but...then one of the other Albanians starting yelling up to our room from the street, to our 10th floor room.
So security came. Gave us our final warning. Final warning? Yes, final warning.
HILARIOUS.
The Albanians left the next day to drive back to Albany. Rick called me on the drive home...but not from his cell phone. Which I learned when I tried to call him back and his friend answered and said it was his cell phone. Red flag? Nah...I don't believe in them. Or maybe I should say I ignore them. I don't think it really has anything to do with believing in them. For example, these weren't red flags...right?
1 - Rick did not know how to send a text from his phone.
2 - He was only able to call me on certain evenings.
3 - He couldn't give me a phone number at which to reach him, ya know, because, well, he lived with his ex-girlfriend - no, no no - they were broken up! He just hadn't moved out yet.
See? I told you. No red flags here.
Needless to say, Rick and I weren't long for this world and then I just never heard from him again.
But then there was the Candy Man! The Candy Man and I silently flirted a few times at Burke's. By silently flirted, I mean I don't know if he knew we were flirting. Basically, I told one of my bartender friends that I wanted to go out with the Candy Man, he told the Candy Man and then finally one night, he worked up the courage to come over and ask for my phone number. Of course, he had to get past Marion...yes, that Marion. Marion felt that all guys were hers to play with, and only if she felt like it would she allow one to talk to anyone else. Nevermind that she was CRAZY! So my sister totally cock-blocked her (is there a female version of that???) and Candy Man and I were able to connect.
JJ, his real name, is referred to as the Candy Man because his family owned a chocolate/homemade ice cream shop in Westwood that had been in his family for years. He was a Devils' fan, super tall, and very nice. And we went out a few times for dinner and drinks. And had a good time. And then I never heard from him again.
Hmmmm...another pattern emerging here.
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