Losing Bets and Getting Laid

Things were going well with The Busy Builder. We'd only met a week before, but I already let my guard down and allowed him to pick me up at my house for the third date. We planned to go to a bar in Venice Beach to watch the UFC fights, a very typical Saturday event for him. He's got that "All American" vibe about him.... a jeans and tshirt, beer-loving, truck-driving man.

As we sipped on giant margaritas and took bets on who would win each round, I asked when his birthday is. I think astrology is fun, and I couldn't be more of a true Sagittarius: read more about that here. Completely shocking, we discover The Busy Builder and I have the same birthday, just one year apart. What are the odds? Girl Thought: this must mean something! It's a sign! I almost didn't believe it until he showed me his license. While sharing is not one of my strengths (Remember my freak out with Sandwich Guy?) this could actually be a positive for The Busy Builder, as he claims to have the worst memory ever. Can't forget my birthday, now!

At this point he looked at my nearly empty giant margarita and laughed. He couldn't believe I can keep up with his drinking. I'm awesome like that. We ordered another and kissed in the bar. I'm not usually big on PDA, but it felt nice to want that again. The main event was about to start and he announced that if I lose this round, I will have to plan our next date. DEAL. I ended up losing, and it didn't bother me one bit. Why?

1. It means we get a fourth date.
2. I'm great at date-planning! 

We were about to go home after the fights, both a bit tipsy, but we turned around and headed to the sand, climbing onto one of the deserted lifeguard towers. It was so romantic. I got caught up in the moment and knew I wanted him to go home with me that night. It was way too soon, but I broke the rules. Hey Everyone! Aren't you proud I waited a whole week? Umm, you only live once?

When we woke up the next morning, I instantly grew concerned. I know what happens when you sleep with a guy too soon...he loses all interest. Surely I'll never hear from him again. Stupid, stupid girl! As we dressed to go to breakfast at one of my favorite spots on Main Street, I walked Oliver (who was thankfully NOT a c-block the night before, sleeping quietly in his dog bed on the floor) to the backyard. When I came back inside, The Busy Builder was nowhere to be found. My heart sank. I knew this would happen. I opened the front door to check for his car, and there he was...sitting on my stoop, shaking the sand out of his shoes. 

"You thought I just left? You must really think I'm an asshole."

I guess that's just what I'm used to...

We had a great morning on Main Street, talking about life goals and business plans. I love how passionate he is about the design+build company he started; ambition is a huge turn-on. (So are big, muscly arms.) His business is really starting to blow up, and it's exciting...but could be the reason he doesn't have a girlfriend --hence the title "The Busy Builder."

Workaholics are ALL over the online dating world.