First Date With A Hot Guy, As Narrated By My Hormones

Good God, this bathroom is disgusting. Do I really need lip gloss? I really need lip gloss. Okay. I do not even want to think about the germs I’m getting on my mouth right now. Scrubscrubscrubscrubscrub.

Remember, you are not bringing this guy home tonight. You like him. He is smart. He is funny. He is handsome. He’s not someone whose dirty texts I want to ignore the next day about how he wants to spank my ass again. Take things slowly. Do not go home with this guy … But just in case, I’m glad you wore the black lace panties.

Wow. He’s pretty cute. Those two margaritas last Thursday weren’t lyin’. But remember: DO NOT GO HOME WITH THIS GUY.

He just ordered both our drinks from the waitress. Old-fashioned. But hot.

Yes, cheers! Cheers to him not being a rapist and/or murderer!

He touched our finger. Accident? Or encoded secret male communication? Must think on this.

Maybe don’t finish that story that involves your nude photos, Jessica.

Why did he just look at our martini and ask us how we’re doing? Are we acting silly? We haven’t even finished the second drink. Hold it together, woman.

Touched our finger again. Tingly. OK, this is not an accident. Still may be secretly encoded male communication though. Think on this some more.

No, you are not taking us to a dive bar next, mister.

Yes, a martini bar. That’s better.

And this place has booths! We can sit next to each other for optimal hand-holding, leg-stroking and kissing. If he tries that. And if he does, DO NOT GO HOME WITH THIS GUY.

It’s kind of sweet the way he’s refusing to tell you a “slutty story” about himself. Aww,he is a gentleman. Or you’re just a slut. Why did you ask him that?

Why has he not kissed me yet? Why has he not kissed me yet? Why has he not kissed me yet?

HE KISSED ME ON THE CHEEK!!!!

Wait a minute, what the hell was that? A kiss on the cheek? The cheek? Kiss us on the lips, damn it.

He might just be shy. That’s fine. You are going to have to touch this guy’s hand. Stroke his fingers. Squeeze his palms.

OH MY GOD HE’S KISSING MY HAND. THIS IS SO ROMANTIC. I AM ROMANTIC PANTY-CREAMING.

Did you just tell him you like giving blowjobs? You just told him you like giving blowjobs. Jessica, why the f**k did you tell him you like giving blowjobs? This third martini is, uhh, working. You should have eaten a bigger dinner. DO. NOT. GO. HOME. WITH. THIS. GUY.

WHEN IS HE GOING TO KISS ME ON THE LIPS ALREADY? Don’t make us have to do this ourselves.

Ooooh.  Ooooh. Yes. Oooooh. That’s nice. Yes. Yes. Yes.

Stroke his hair a little bit. Is that product in there? He doesn’t seem metrosexual. Is product even metrosexual anymore? Why are we even thinking about this now? Kiss more!

Caress our leg a little bit. That’s right. No, not the thigh under our dress. Just the leg. At least, not in front of everyone. All right, maybe under the dress a little bit. Just don’t make it look obvious.

He’s not ordering another drink? THE PART WHERE WE INVITE HIM BACK TO OUR PLACE IS IMMINENT.

Oh, he’s going home alone? Early morning tomorrow? NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO.

Yes, of course we would like to have dinner at his place this weekend. Aww, that is so sweet. BUT THE WEEKEND IS STILL THREE DAYS AWAY OH MY GOD I CANNOT WAIT THAT LONG.

Sure, we’ll quote-unquote “split a cab home.” Making out in cabs is the best thing about living in New York City.

Ignore the cab driver sitting a two feet away. Repeat after us: cab drivers are not people.

No, we didn’t mean to brush his hand away while he was groping your boob. That was an accident. Ugh. Well, we can’t very well grab his hand and put it back on your tits, can we? Nice job, Jessica.

At least his hand is still resting on our thigh. Don’t you dare touch it, woman. Don’t mess this up, too. Just let it linger.

Kiss goodbye. We hope we’ll see him again. At least you didn’t go home with him on the first date.

This is the longest subway ride home ever.

And goddamn, am I horny.