There's just one problem.

Operation K.A.B. exists no longer, obviously, and I am really 'making out' with my single-hood status as of late. No, seriously. With no pressure, it's a lot more enjoyable. I talk to boys with no expectations nor timeline in mind. Very refreshing. Very eye-opening. And v. v. fun. I had forgotten how much fun just flirting can be! And I am actually good at it!

So...Saturday night, the girls and I went out for dinner and drinks. Front Street Trattoria in Red Bank was awesome, as usual, and we rolled out of the place, our bellies filled with tasty pizza. Instead of museum-like Red, though, where everyone stands around and stares at each other like wax figures, we opted to head to the Downtown (aka: "Clowntown") to have a few drinks and relax.

Steph soon noticed a cute Dane Cook look-a-like and before you know it he was chatting her up at the other end of the bar. He seemed very interested and I was happy for her.

As for me, I was just sitting at the bar when the bartender starts "yelling" at me for stealing his pen.

I was game.

"I did...I took your pen. So there."

Well, turns out, that is all he needed to hear. Soon we were chatting non-stop. He was cute, funny and from NJ, too. It also came out that he worked at the shore bar I used to work at during summers while in college. We laughed how there were so many crazies that worked there that it was actually the normal people, us, who stuck out. He started the year I left so we had just missed each other.

He made me a free drink (without my asking) and even though I am sure he does that for a lot of girls, I thought it was sweet. I knew I was hitting it off pretty well with him because I got the shivers (bad) and they wouldn't go away. That is always a big sign that I like someone--I can't stop shaking. Doesn't happen often, but when it does I know I am in 'trouble'.

Anyway, all of a sudden, a lot more people came into the bar and he was pulled this way and that filling drink orders. He never failed, though, to check on me and keep our convo going, even if it was quick, talking about everything from music to bartending to football. I probably wasn't the easiest audience, either, as I was stone-cold sober and I am sure other girls he speaks to usually aren't. I will not hold it against him that he is a Giants fan as we, meaning the Eagles, beat them last Sunday, anyway. And he was still very likeable, despite this major character flaw. ; )

We talked and talked and laughed and before long Steph (back from talking to "Dane") was ready to go. I think her exact line was, "Wow, I am so drunk right now." Even though I was having a fun time, I was tired, too, and ready to go, as well. So without batting an eyelash, I got up from my seat. He had been helping someone but came over and shot me this look that said, What are you doing? I gave him a big smile, handed him my card and said, "It was really great talking to you. Give me a call if you want to go out." He took it and I left the bar area to get my coat. There was no question--he knew I was interested. No question about it and the ball is now in his court.

There's just one problem: as I handed him my card I realized that, well, I never got his name.

I know, I know! This usually occurs right at the beginning of the convo. But I was enjoying myself and deep in conversation and the damn shivers were causing me to look past this. I mean, those DAMN shivers made me unable to think straight!

I am laughing to myself, though, thinking of how the conversation might go should he call...

Him: (My name)?

Me: Yes?

Him: It's [insert name here].

Me: Who?

Eh, let's hope it's a little smoother than that.

Anyway, I left and chalked it up to a fun night. Nothing more, nothing less. He has my card and if he wants to get in touch with me, he will. In guy time, if he got my number on Saturday, it means (a la "Swingers") a good eight days until I might hear from him, if I hear from him at all. What's better, though, is I don't even care if I don't. And that's great.