Even though I had opposed the idea of being part of a “bachelor” auction, I decided to be put on the block for a charity bachelor auction that my partner John’s softball team was hosting. Despite my concerns which included the fact that I’m not a bachelor and wondering why my partner was so adamant about selling me off, I went along with it.
After months of couples counseling and revolving arguments, which included my seemingly “lack of support” for John playing softball and my coming off as a “controlling nag,” I felt we were still in a rut. Instead of putting up a fight, I figured this would be my way to reintroduce myself to that sect of his social life and show my efforts to embrace the team he adored; make my actions speak louder than my words.
When the auction began, I was nervous. Besides the fact that I don’t like being on display, I was also nervous that I wouldn’t get any bids. Well, at least my friends will throw in a sympathy bid. Sipping my cocktail, I watched as the single pretty boys in front of me got up and without reservation removed their clothes with each increased bid. No way. My clothes stay on.
When the MC called my name, I swiftly went over to him and informed him that there would be no taking off of the clothes.
“This is an outfit,” I informed him.
No sooner did I climb up on the block, hands began to rise. To my surprise, they belonged to strangers. I smiled and laughed nervously. Hurry up and pick a winner. That wouldn’t be the case, as I noticed a rather dauntingly handsome man confidently raise his hand anytime someone else did. This obviously caught John’s attention as well. He threw his hand up. H.S. (Handsome Stranger) promptly countered.
As the bids went over the $100 mark, I saw John walk over and try to haggle with H.S. I rolled my eyes. Why is John even bidding? I thought I was doing this FOR him.
In the interim, someone had outbid both of them. John raised his hand again. H.S., clearly not wanting nor needing to bargain, raised his again, winking at me. When no one else was able to compete with H.S., the MC called a winner.
“Sold to this gentleman over here for $125.”
The winning bidders received a gift card for a restaurant they’re supposed to use for their date. However, since I technically wasn’t a bachelor, I walked up to H.S., handed him his gift card, thanked him and informed him that I was false advertising.
“So, does that mean I can’t still talk to you or take you out?” he questioned.
“Well, no,” I said meekly, feeling like maybe I had been rude. “I just don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to take me out. I just did this for charity.”
I found out that his name was Warren, a professional ballroom dancer and nurse. He showered me with compliments. Very flattered, I thanked him and tried to steer the conversation away from flirtation. Then, as if Warren wasn’t already aware of his presence, John assumed himself into our conversation with some out of the blue, pseudo-bitchy comment. He all but peed on my leg.
I excused myself to grab a drink and a smoke. John didn’t even flinch but I noticed Warren’s eyes follow me.
A few minutes later, Warren came outside looking for me. We continued our conversation and before I knew it, hours had passed. I found that I had met someone who I instantly felt comfortable with. He was already aware that I had a boyfriend and was honest and mature enough to reveal that he was in the process of ending a long-term relationship himself. Knowing the pressure was off, the serenity and comfort were incredibly alluring. Uh oh. I don’t even know this person yet I’m finding myself drawn to him.
