A non date is what it sounds like...a non date.

A couple of weeks ago, I swore off dating for two reasons. I just couldn't stand the thought of getting rejected anymore by men who aren't that cool to begin with, and two, I don't want to spend my spring and summer obsessing about whether a particular man of interest likes me or not. Which, unfortunately, is something I do. Wouldn't you know it, the following week a seemingly nice, young, funny man asked for my number, and I was right back in the game again.

I met Philip on a low key night in DC while hanging out with a couple of girlfriends. My friend had invited her coworker and his friend Philip out to meet us for a couple of drinks. Philip had boyish good looks, a good job, and was extremely funny, and after a couple hours of great conversation and budding chemistry, I was delighted when he asked me for my number. Although he was several years younger than me, I thought, "why not?". This situation was proving perfect on my newly discovered "non-dating plan", I'd just go out for a couple drinks with Philip and hopefully have a good make out session at the end of the night.

Eventually Philip called me to hang out one Friday night. To be clear, he asked me to join him and his friend at probably the dirtiest, seediest bar in DC for a couple of drinks. This venue was perfect for my non-dating plan. Its clearly not a date if a guy invites you out with his friend to go to a windowless bar that reeks of awfulness and every surface is sticky or wet. I asked my friend to be my wingman, and we set off to see what the night would bring.

My friend and I arrived at the smelly bar to find Philip and his friend, waiting (and drinking quite a lot) just as planned. Philip and I picked up right where we had left off, flirting and laughing, and I thought for sure I had a late night make out session in the bag. I felt like I had reverted back to college again, and I frankly didn't care what anyone thought about that.

Our little group quickly decided to finish our collective drinks and beers and head to an equally loud, yet slightly cleaner bar up the street. Outside the door to the bar was a highly intoxicated guy puking repeatedly all over the sidewalk. I'm telling you, the ambiance couldn't get any better. We made our way in and cozied up to the bar. This is when Philip went to the dark side.

Philip: Would you like a shot of tequila?

Me: Umm, I don't really want tequila, but I'll take shot. (The ordering of shots also fit nicely with my "non date plan"). A SoCo and Lime shot would be okay.

Philip: Okay, SoCo and Lime it is. (Smile, and then...) Hey bartender, 4 shots of tequila. And I need salt!"

Me: Why did you just do that?

Philip: It just came out. Sorry. (Then he smiled and chuckled. Be still my heart, blegh.)

Our little group, including my poor friend, begrudgingly choked down our shot of rail tequila. I looked at Philip with stinging tears in my eyes from the taste of the alcohol as the tequila burned inside my chest. "That was awful", I said.

After 30 minutes or so of more flirting and talking (I wasn't going to let the tequila beat me), Philip suggested we go somewhere else, and settled on going to a nearby bar that featured lots of alcohol, a DJ, and plenty of dancing. When we arrived, Philip handed his credit card instead of his Driver's License, to the bouncer. "You can't come in, you're too drunk", the bouncer said, laughing. Philip, in his embarrassment, turned around and explained the situation to me. I should have taken that as a sign to turn and walk away slowly, but no, I stuck by my man, and urged his friend to sweet talk the bouncer into letting Philip inside.

The details of the next 10 minutes or so are blurry, I'm not sure if it was the tequila or my brain's way of blocking out what was actually happening. In the span of those 10 minutes, Philip fell on the floor pretty hard inside the bar and then got up and ordered what looked like a whiskey and orange juice and chugged the whole thing. Looking at him with disgust, I was at a loss. All I wanted to do was have a good time. I should have left him, stranded, at the bar. But instead I took a different path, in fact, its probably a path well traveled by drunk girls everywhere. I grabbed Philip by the hand and drug him to the dance floor.

I won't go into the details of my dance floor antics, but they involve me dancing wildly and making out with Philip. Not my best collection of moments. At this point I had no idea how the evening would end with Philip, but I was determined to find out. He told me he had to go to the restroom and that he would be right back, grinning from ear to ear. I promptly ran back to my friends and told them how drunk he was. As if that would make up for my behavior as well.

Then nothing happened. Nothing. So anti climatic, I know. Philip disappeared from the bar, never to return from the bathroom and continue to crazily dance with me on that crowded dance floor. A friend of mine who was at the bar, promptly asked me what on earth I was doing with that guy. I answered that I was just trying to have a good time, and I had failed. I walked home swearing off all real AND non- dates. When I returned home, I angrily texted him "What happened to you!?!". The text made me feel better, I wasn't going to dare call him!

The next day, although confused by the previous nights events, I slowly got over it and decided not to think too much about what happened. Philip obviously got way too drunk to act like a normal person in public and his only option left was to split the bar before he puked on me or completely passed out. That's the story I was going with. What a great non-date! That afternoon I got a text message from Philip in response to my previous one sent the night before asking what had happened to him. He explained that he was hit by the "tequila bus", said that he was usually more of a gentleman, apologized, and then told me he had a nice time with me though. I'll probably never see him or hear from him again.

So that's how I found out that a "non date" is just that, a non date, nothing more. At my attempt at reverting into college party mode, I found out that it doesn't work as easily as it did when I was in college. But after all this is DC.


The End.