The Cricketeer

So, I just got home from a night of clubbing in India...and legitimately THE hottest guy in the club hit on me. Despite my self-assured ways...that never happens to me.

I was with my oldest friend in the world at Hawaiin Shack--a chill four-storey "club" in Bandra (W)--with four of her guy friends and two of her girlfriends. We paid Rs. 1000/couple to get in which allotted each couple a booklet of drink tickets. After my third vodka club soda, I was ready to sway my hips to the best music I've heard in a club off late. Sean Paul blaring sealed the deal.

Earlier that evening, shortly after we walked in and staked seats besides the stairs on the second floor, I noticed the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome sitting at a table with a turbaned lad across from us. He was by far the best looking guy in the joint. He couldn't help tapping his feet and bobbing his head to the music--he even mouthed the words. Finally, he got up to dance and I couldn't tear my eyes off him. He was looking my way as well but didn't approach. Finally, I got up to dance with my bff and her buds when he sidled up to me and smiled, mouthing "hi". I smiled back and nodded.

Soon after they were offering free shots for ladies at the DJ booth in a very down-the-shore, booze-down-your-gullet style. I raced up for two quick swigs and brushed by him on the way back to my gaggle. The boys in the group formed a protective huddle around me and kept steering me away from him. He kept holding my hand when they got distracted from their bodyguarding ways. Finally, he asked me to "Meet by the loo?" I nodded as he stalked off.

He was awaiting me in the brightly-lit alcove between the restrooms, phone in hand. I have no idea what my Indian cell number is, so he grabbed my phone and dialed his number. Saving him into my phone and me into his....as he was handing me back the phone I tilted up my head to thank him and he kissed me. RIGHT THERE. His lips parted mine and I felt his tongue sliding into my mouth, it was so sudden I barely had a chance to react. I reflexively kissed back before realizing we were in a high traffic area and Indians were staring. I broke away quickly and ran back to my group.

His name is Andy and he's a cricketeer (Yes. he's Indian).
Cricketeer is Indian speak for football stud. We'll see if he actually calls me tomorrow....he's called me twice since we left the club but it's only been 30mins and the buzz has undoubtedly NOT worn off.

Here's hoping I have my first fling at 28...in India, no less.