Page 7 of Sour Notes

I should’ve known the last guy was a dud the second he kicked his shoes off in the movie theater. Who does that on a first date? Actually, who does that at all? Do we know what’s been on those floors? Especially in the back row.

The one before that declared himself a feminist… while staring at my tits. He literally referred to them as “the girls.”

Like, yeah, ok. Flying that feminist flag out and proud, my dude.

And don’t even get me started on Perfume Guy. He showed up to our date with a freakin’ bottle of the stuff. For a second I thought maybe he was sweet, a little OTT for a first date, but at least he made the effort right?

Wrong.

It was inscribed with some other girl's name. And that wasn’t the worst part. He said he loved the smell because it was the same one his mom wore. There’s mommy issues, and then there’s mommy issues. I’m not down to get in the middle of any of that.

I’m so over it. At this point I’m ready to commit to a long-term relationship with my vibrator. It might be a little loud, but at least that knows what it’s doing.

Maybe I’m the problem.

Do I reek of desperation?

With a month before I’m due to fly out for my brother's wedding, I guess I am getting pretty desperate. If I don’t find a guy I can at the very least tolerate enough to make a believable boyfriend, not only am I going to have my entire family riding my ass about being single, but I’ll be reaffirming the parting words of the worst trash human to ever walk this earth—my ex-boyfriend, who’ll also be at the wedding because he just so happens to be my brother’s fiancée’s brother.

Don’t try and say that when you’re drunk.

Since I can still think it, I’m clearly not drunk enough.

Unlucky huh?

But that’s a problem for future me.

Right now’s not about finding a boyfriend, it’s about having fun. I’ve promised myself one wild night. One night to do whoever the fuck I want—see what I did there—without worrying about whether we can hold a conversation past coffee in the morning.

It’s been so long since my pussy’s seen any action it’s got more cobwebs than this entire bar.

Hopefully tonight will clean out the basement because it looks like every freakin’ hot guy in and around Sweet Haven has come out to play.

What is it about Halloween that brings out the hot sauce in everyone? Every guy in here looks totally fucking fire.

It’s gotta be the eyeliner.

Guys everywhere take note. Put some eyeliner on, get out there, and I guarantee you’ll get laid.

I should write a column about it.

Mental note: Email my editor tomorrow.

Haven giggles beside me and I spot Axel nuzzling her neck in my peripheral vision.

Well, chilling with the lovebirds isn’t going to get me anywhere fast. Time for this girl to shop.

I sip my cocktail, slowly scanning the bar. My eyes snag on a vampire who’s just walked in with a swish of his cape. He’s hot, his dark hair slicked back, and I can tell from here he has a good body and gorgeous eyes. I could go for a little Dracula action.

Oh, nope.

Tinkerbell has just thrown herself into his arms. Taken.

Damn.

Jack Sparrow’s laughing in a booth to my right with some friends. He looks cute.

I look over at Haven and Axel who are totally oblivious to my presence now. She's sitting on his lap while he whispers something in her ear. They aren’t always this bad, but given the alcohol they’ve likely consumed, well… let’s just say we’re lucky we’re not being given a show.