Last we discussed Napoleon, we had gone on a delightful little sushi date which included a free bottle of hot sake. Afterward, we hung out at my house for a little bit watching netflix on the couch and had made plans to “talk soon.”
Napoleon and I texted all throughout the next few days.
“How is your day going?”
“What are you up to later?”
“I saw this and thought of you.”
“I had a great time the other night.”
You know… normal early-dating-texts.
We kept trying to make plans, but I found myself a little busier than usual. I kept having to tell him “Well, I’m supposed to go to _______ for ______. Maybe after, we can meet up?” but it never ended up working out.
The one day I was available – Thursday – he had plans. Those plans, however, placed him at a bar, so he invited me to join him and some of his friends – many of which I knew – at the bar so we could hang out.
This was Thursday February 13th. The day before Valentine’s Day. The day before (the 12th) I was informed by the Tampon that he would not be joining me and a couple of my friends at a beer event on Valentine’s Day because he didn’t feel like it. I was not in the best of head spaces, but I was very down to meet up with Napoleon and have a few (too many) drinks.
He stayed by my side the entire night. We played flip cup, we played boat captain (a version of flip cup where everyone is on their own team. Some people call it survivor, but I’m a purist and we called it boat captain in college.)
At some point we changed bars to one across the street where one of my favorite bartenders works. Yes, I have a favorite bar tender. Don’t judge.
Somehow it was past midnight and it was officially Valentine’s Day. A day that I have always disliked. I have issues with holidays. There’s something about telling someone you care about them because it’s Valentine’s Day that has always rubbed me the wrong way. I’m glad as hell that people can appreciate it and celebrate it, but that’s just not for me. No judgment here, just a personal preference. That doesn’t mean I don’t share the love. So I laid a “Happy Valentine’s Day” blanket on the entire group of people which was met with a kiss from Napoleon. In front of people. Which was weird to me, but I went with it.
He walked me to my car, got in and we made out for a little bit. Then, in a moment of not-entirely-sober thought, I invited him to join my friends and I at the beer event the next night. He agreed and then I went home.
The next day, after work, I picked him up from his house (since it was on my way) and we made our way to the beer event. We spent our time playing board games, MASH (yep, the game we all played in elementary school) and chatting away while drinking beers. It was actually one of the better Valentine’s Days because it wasn’t all lovey-dovey, but just a fun night with my friends and Napoleon.
When we left, I drove him home, we kissed good night, and made plans for the upcoming Sunday. We would be in the same place anyway, so we made plans to get food and drinks after ward.
Instead, we ended up drinking way too much, making out on my couch for, basically, ever, and watched some Netflix. This went on for some time before I needed him to leave so I could clean, do laundry, and go to bed early enough to wake up for my Monday morning run.
When he got home, he texted me “good night” and made plans with me for the upcoming Tuesday.
Come back next week when I will tell you all about the first time I cooked for Napoleon and whether or not I got a chance to sample the goods.