It was one of the hottest nights of the summer and I had no idea what to wear. I’d never been to Tiki Tango, but supposedly it was the best Sunday day party in Atlanta. If anything, I was excited to celebrate my girl’s 31st birthday and spend some much needed time with my friends.

The anniversary of putting my Ring Pop® in a stranger's champagne and going home with him; I started reflecting on how far I’d truly come.

An entire year of getting over heartbreak, moving on, and dating.

A complete 180°.

I threw on a low cut floral shirt, some ripped jeans, and sat shotgun while my brother drove to Midtown. As we walked in and up the stairs to the outdoor section, I was greeted by friends with warm smiles and a cold shot of Crown.

After canvassing the section, I was surrounded by the same friends who were there when I cried at Zama Mexican Cuisine; the same friends who encouraged me to get on Bumble; and the same friends who listened to every ridiculous dating story I had since.

The early evening light from the sun setting, coupled with the sticky night air, caused the mood to hit just right.

Another shot of Crown.

While looking for a chaser, I noticed a guy walk into the section and greet the birthday girl.

Why does he look so familiar?

I recognized him and wanted to introduce myself. After a drink or two, I yelled out his name and he came over with his beard and welcoming smile.

Me: Hey! We haven’t officially met, but I’m Jasmine!
Him: Yoooo, you’re like family!

It was such a pleasant greeting and I had to catch myself from staring at him.

His pictures online didn’t do him any justice.

He nestled between me and my friend as we all started conversing. It felt like we’d known each other in real life and been friends for years.

Twenty minutes into the conversation, he mentioned that he had a girlfriend back home and was only in town for the weekend.

But, who cares about a girlfriend after three shots in?

Me: Let me chill, because I don’t want to disrespect what you have going on.
Him: I mean, who knows what the future will bring. I’m here right now.

Say less.

After looking at each other and realizing that this connection was more than some internet shit, he told me to finish my drink that I was babysitting so he could buy me a new one.

I took the drink to the head.

I looked at my friends and they gave me the, “I SEE YOU, SIS” eye.

Trash powers activated.

We walked up to the bar and he ordered two whiskey and ginger beers - my favorite.

Him: Let’s toast to a good time.
Me: …to a good time.

We clinked our glasses, took sips of our drinks, and grinned at each other.

Why was his smile so perfect?

We walked back to the section and everyone was nice and intoxicated. He and I sat side by side and it was the first time in months I’d felt a genuine connection with someone.

It felt enchanting.

It felt electric.

It felt effortless.

I started feeling like I was in a whirlwind. The now hot night air, mixed with the now fifth Crown shot, had our intentions crystal clear.

After chasing the shot with a sip of my drink, I found myself caressing his beard and whispering in his ear all the things I wanted to do to him.

As “I Want to Be Your Man” by Roger Troutman blared in the background, he finished his drink, put his hand down my pants and on my ass, and told me he was ready to leave.

We exchanged numbers and he got up to use the restroom and say goodbye to a few friends who came in the section while we were in our own world.

My brother left a few hours before and I realized that I needed to sober up.

While he was still gone, my friends enthusiastically came over to me.

Birthday Girl: JAS, I’ve never seen you in action like this. I didn’t know you had it in you!

Neither did I.

He came back over to me, I kissed him on the cheek, he told me to text him, and he left.

As the nasty text messages started rolling in, some friends and I walked over to Ra Sushi Bar around midnight for some much needed food and a night recap.

After some heated back and forth texts, I called an Uber back to my house from the bar. He had an early flight to Virginia, but reassured we’d link soon.

As drunk as I was, it was the better option to go home to Advil and my bed instead.

The next morning, I vertiginously checked my phone and was pleased by the morning texts he sent before his flight.

Him: Just got on the plane, hope you got some rest. See you soon.

I pulled the covers over my head, smiled, and thought about what “see you soon” actually meant.

Later that week, I accepted a job offer and booked a flight to New York to celebrate my dad’s birthday.

Rather than buying a return flight to Atlanta, I decided to head to DC afterwards for some much needed shenanigans instead.