Taming of the Zoo

Crush Collection: Keeping My Options Open

By HonkeyCat, 2-05-09

	Headin' back . . . to school!

Ahhhhhh! School has begun, the smell of fresh notebook paper wafts the air, no parking for miles and a whole new set of studious studs to figure out.

I’ve been back in Missoula for a few months now and my crush collection has grown to quite a number, most are innocent, a few only involve flirtatious texting, one is an old flame and depending upon which state you live in there is a certain hottie I may or may not be stalking.

There’s my Scotty’s Table Slave, Blue-Eyed Ski Bum, Mr. Funny Pants, Surprisingly Profound Handyman, Ex-Griz Football Player Boy and He Might Be Gay DJ.  These are guys I see around Missoula, I know most of their names, but some I ogle from afar. Obviously, none are boyfriend material . . . yet.

Un caveat, Mr. Funny Pants isn’t exactly a crush, he and I have a long-ish history together, but we are just not meant to be, yet we can’t seem to let it go. I like to meet new people; he’s intensely loyal to his old friends. I’m bossy, he’s a pushover. Yes, we tell perverted jokes, find fancy cheese sticks with Perrier delicious and both give a sweltering lap dance. But is this enough to hold a relationship together?

Old flames die hard and I’ve been suffering through some cold nights lately so for now he’s currently on my roster.

I broke up with him for the first time right before I left for L.A. We cried over plates of uneaten enchiladas and traded hand-written letters filled with sappy, melodramatic ramblings about our ending relationship. I was sad about leaving him, but goddamit I wanted to see where they taped Dancing with the Stars! Living in the big city was something that I had to do, I needed the taste of face-paced living. And indeed I got it (it was kind of like a day old taco drenched in hot sauce and smog). City livin’ ain’t where it’s at!

Unfortunately he never could figure out why I didn’t take him with me and the truth is we were like those pieces of the puzzle that are so close to fitting perfectly that you just keep trying to shove them together even though they don’t do that perfect ‘puzzle snap’ and you’re still thinking, “This one has to work, this piece is sea foam green and has that little smudge of black right here that is definitely part of the chihuahua’s nose, and that’s part of her golden penny whistle, not the midget.” Then of course, you really do find the piece that fits and realize you were totally wrong about that other piece.

So here’s to finding another piece . . .

I have a date on Tuesday with the ski bum, we met while doing some booty-shaking at The Badlander a couple Thursdays ago. He was a good dancer and didn’t take himself too seriously, but I’m just not sure if he is funny enough for me. In his favor he is slightly mysterious, his mom lives in Iceland and his dad used to be in a semi-famous 80’s hair band. Also, he’s older, nobody’s grandpa or anything, but he’s got at least a decade on me. I guess I’ll have to wait and see if he has any jokes at dinner. I’m not sure where we are going to go, I’m thinking I just want to get a drink somewhere and skip out on the slurping and burping (sometimes it’s just awkward). Somewhere dark and not frequented by any of my other crushes, maybe Higgins Alley or Red Bird?

Plus I have a completely new crew to analyze over the next few months, I want to keep my options open, because you never know when that Mr. Right is going to reveal himself at Sean Kelly’s trivia night or lend you a dime for your parking meter.

Anybody have any recommendations for a good drink in a dark, intimate place in Missoula?

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