Now, the secret service is after me

Oh, what an interesting weekend it was…and by “interesting” I clearly mean boring. Since I have been drinking myself stupid for the last three months, I decided to go on a detoxification plan. This plan involves herbal supplements paired with a strict diet that includes no drinking (along with no salt, sugar, red meat, dairy, or caffeine). While the plan sucked at first, I only have nine days left and I’m feeling pretty good.

However, such a strict eating plan doesn’t make for very exciting weekend plans.

Naturally, since I couldn’t go out, I had random guys texting me out the wazoo. What the hell?

I got a text from Danny boy Friday night saying that we haven’t hung out in awhile and wanted to know what I’m doing.

Well, I didn’t know what I was supposed to say…anything I said would’ve sounded like a cheap excuse not to hangout. And if I told him I was doing a detox, then I would’ve sounded like a crack whore. Then, I realized how stupid the whole thing was, like why on earth do I even care what I say to this guy because he is such a total CREEPER?


Well, shortly afterward, I get a message from the guy I met at that concert last weekend, Brad. He had been texting me throughout the week, which I thought was nice. However, I don’t remember him being the hottest of guys. NOW, I realize how superficial that sounds, but I was just telling Gizzy yesterday that I’ve never dated a guy who I think is a total HOTTIE.

Of course, I am physically attracted to them, or else I wouldn’t be with them. But I’m attracted to their personality first, and the looks come second. So right now, I’m on the lookout for a total hottie. And why shouldn’t I be? DAMN!

Anyway, Brad texts me saying he’s going to another concert and wants me to come along…ugh. I ran into the same problem as I had with Danny…I can’t tell I guy I’ve just met that I’m doing a detox—it’s going to come across all wrong. He’s either going to think I’m a crack addict, or a complete weirdo with an anorexia problem.

So I pretty much avoided both questions (from both guys) all together and hoped they’d think I was playing hard to get instead of sitting on my couch watching Will & Grace eating soy yogurt.

I fell asleep pretty early on Friday evening, which meant I woke up at 3 am, ready to rumble. Well, oddly enough, my friend Nicole (the one who is getting married) was still out partying and had sent me a message saying she found a guy for me. Ah, this is one of the many reasons I love Nicole. When I’m at home sitting on my fat ass, she is out, scouring the bars for eligible men for her lone single gal, Lucky.

So we are texting back and forth about this new guy she’s supposedly found and she decides to call me. So we talk for a bit and she says the guy, Burton, wants to talk to me. So we talk.

And he tells me he’s 24 (check)

From Jersey (eh, check)

Has a solid job (check)

As one of Obama’s Secret Servicemen (AND SIGN THE CHECK, SEALED, DELIVERED)

Wants me to take him to Nicole’s wedding (eh, we’ll see)

Says I should come to DC (uh, Check)

There just so happens to be another politico in DC that I’m trying to make out with. In reality, these need to be two separate visits, but damn, could DC be my very own man jackpot?!

Here’s to hoping!

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3 thoughts on “Now, the secret service is after me

  1. Come to DC! Especially now that it’s not as hot.

  2. […] here to discuss today—I’ll leave that up to Gizzy. Today, I’m talking about my new DC Crush, the Secret Service […]

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