So, I took your advice, decided to throw all caution to the wind on Friday night, and accepted a date with the very cute, very young Mr. Baldwin I had mentioned last week.
Mr. Baldwin was persistently calling me to go to dinner with him in his 'hood. Well, after saying no a million times and using every excuse in the book, he offered to come into Brooklyn to see me instead. He had worn down my defenses by this point so I figured, "Why not?"
He treated me to dinner, and soon after we found ourselves at a bar drinking his (and my) favorite libation—tequila.
We were having such a good time that eventually we found ourselves getting kicked out of the bar at closing time (4am!) He was walking me back to my apartment when we came across a playground.
The gate was open, and we tip-toed in. Like two little kids we quickly scaled the jungle gym. Once at the top, the child's play was over and Baldwin started to kiss me. For the next hour, we managed to find all sorts of ways to climb, sit and prop ourselves up against the various poles, slides and swings while furiously making out. It was a hot summer night in more ways than one and as things heated up I was glad I had checked my preconceived notions at the door and took a gamble on a date with Mr. Baldwin.
Just before the sun was rising, we said our goodbye's and I sleepily made my way to bed. I woke up Saturday with bruises from all the playground action! I have a feeling I’ll see Mr. Baldwin again soon, but plan to take it slow.
Tell me chicas, do you have any memories of unexpectedly hot summer nights? Share below!