Well, blow me down!

Oh. My. God. What a fun snowboarding trip?!? Add to it, I didn't break anything! I didn't dislocate my shoulder or get a concussion like in previous years. That reminds me I should shop for a helmet... (Tell me why I continue to snowboard? Oh right, it's addictive fun! Injuries schminjuries, right?) Actually, I don't see how anyone could have hurt themselves from falling, since there was soooooooooooooooooo much fresh powdery snow. Regardless of the days of blizzard like conditions, ahhhhhhh, it was heaven... Thank goodness for superior snowboarding gear. I could have been in a Tundra and felt warm.



So I promised to get my flirt on, right?

Mission Mammoth:
1. Snowboard my ass off.
2. Get my flirt on.

Check and check! Oh, you'd be so proud. I brought it! It was broughten! It did help that one of umm 2 bars in town had about a 8 to 1 ratio of guys to gals. It was a complete. and. total. Sausage Fest. (I know guys will hate me for saying this, but the reason for that off-kilter ratio was because they charged girls covers. But whatever, I didn't mind, just sucked for the boys. Make us pay, you get Sausage Fest.) OCG and I got plenty of attention, both in the wanted and unwanted variety.

We got our drinks and no more than 5 minutes later, I felt a tap on my shoulder from across the standing table. (It's loud in there with a shitty DJ poorly spinning. Seriously, if you can't transition songs seamlessly from one to another, you're not a DJ, and you should just put an iPod on shuffle.) I turn toward the tap and a cutie raises his plastic cup for a cheers (yes, it's a classy joint.) We tap our plastic cups, mouthed cheers, smiled, and sipped. He leans in to start a conversation... He's with 2 other cuties. Ok, remember to smile and be girly. OCG goes into auto-flirt mode.

I don't recall the exact shouting conversations we had over the next hour+ or so, but 2 of the boys are from Germany and were sent here for work by their German Airline Company. The other (the one that tapped my shoulder) is good 'ol American from San Diego. The German Boys had fun accents, nicely dressed, hot smiles. They were in their mid-twenties. Yikes. But had no issue when I revealed my age, preceded by the how-old-do-you-think-I-am game. Mich? 26? Silly boys... I know I have the Asian gene advantage, but 26? (Oh right, maybe because it's dark in here? I do have great skin...) OCG chats it up with the German Boy closest to her and I'm on with the other two.

Observation: Is it just me or are European boys less of forward-touchy-eye-f*ckers? (Ok, I know I'm generalizing!) It seemed they were actually interested in asking questions to get to know me and didn't try to be all-up-on-me. There was a dance floor and there was no asking to bump-n-grind together. I dunno, but I thought they were respectful. Maybe they just wanted to make friends and need a tourist to show them around L.A.? Hmmm... Oh wait, my German Boy did ask if I had a boyfriend. So hard to gauge the intent without the blatant forward-touchy-eye-f*cking...

At the end of the night, OCG exchanged digits with her German Boy, and I texted my MySpace URL for my German Boy. The American Boy respectfully revealed he has a long distance girlfriend that he cares very much about. "I just like talking to people." Ok...

So! Who knows if we'll hear from any of them, and quite frankly, I don't care. I'm just proud I flirted and felt great about it!