Care for a Nightcap?

Definition:

night-cap, [nahyt-kap], noun:
1. Sex (thinly veiled euphemism for)
Ex. "Would you care to come upstairs for a nightcap?"
Translation: "Am I getting laid tonight or not, lady?"
(source: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=nightcap)


Usually, rules and I do not get along. I fancy myself a traveler on my own path, neither a leader nor a follower. I simply am. I beat my own drum, walk left, stray from the right, tiptoe down the road less travelled, a rebel without a clue and so on. There are only two rules, or maybe credos is a better term, that I follow and do not stray from:

1. The Golden Rule
2. Don't date married men

Numero uno is fairly simple and straightforward. I treat others as I wish to be treated, or at least try my damnedest to do so. (Sometimes, stupid people are difficult for me. And by "stupid" I mean ignorant, selfish, close-minded, intolerant, racist and/or just plain dumb.)

Numero dos, however, isn't hard for me to follow, I just wonder why married dudes seem to love me. I mean, no matter where I go, there they are - hitting on me. What up with that? Do I exude some sort of married-man pheromone that I'm not aware of? Dunno. But, what I do know is that this issue is not contained within US borders.

On my recent escapades to Ireland, not once, but twice (that I'm aware of at least) married men not only hit on me, but were quite serious about their intentions to seduce me. (And, yes, I just used "seduce me" in a sentence.) The first an Englishman, the other an Irishman. They were both positively lovely men. Had they not been married, I may have seriously considered allowing said seductions to occur. However, knowing that they were married, our encounters were left at harmless flirtation and innuendo - two things, admittedly, I'm quite good at.

Where this story becomes even more tantalizing is with the Irishman, Desmond. Des was simply lovely. Handsome, artistic, well-versed, non-pretentious, sweet... and married. It often seems the most interesting and intriguing men to me are married, which bites ass... and not in a good way! Des and I had a lovely evening in the hotel bar, which, in Ireland, will stay open the entire night for hotel residents. (I think my average evening ran to about 4AM-easy to do whilst in Ireland!) We even danced drunkenly, but surprisingly not hideously, to the Jazz band that was playing that evening. Great craic, indeed! (Not a typo, that would be "a good time" in Irish.)

Des decided to retire for the evening, probably a bit past 3AM. (Yup, I said "retire".) His friend and mine stayed a smidge longer, and then they both lingered off to their respective rooms. (I was hopeful that my friend was going to get some good, Irish nookie, but alas, she declined... don't' know what she was thinking!) I digress from my tale of Des and married-man woe... one cannot leave half a pint of Guinness, it's blasphemous in Ireland to waste the black gold goodness. So, I stayed on a bit in the bar chatting with some other patrons - well, I suppose being flirtatious and being hit on is a more appropriate description! But then, the barkeep waves to me and indicates by that universal signal of a fist to the ear with the pinky finger and thumb extended like a Hawaiian "hang loose" that I have a phone call. A phone call in the hotel bar? Odd. Thinking it was my friend wondering when I would be coming to our room, I take the call. However, it was Des... this is where it gets interesting...

Me: Hello?
Des: Hello, Samantha, it's Des.
Me: Well hello, Des.
Des: I was wondering if you might like to join me for a nightcap?
Me: (I'm smiling at being asked for a nightcap!)... Des, that sounds lovely, but I couldn't possibly have another drink!
Des: Then, maybe a coffee or tea?
Me: Ever-so sweet you are, Desmond, but I simply can't.
Des: I understand, but if you change your mind, I'm room 113.
e: Ok, Des. Good night.
Des: Good night, Samantha.

An interesting detail I have not previously disclosed is that Des and I never conversed about him being married. I suspected as much, but it was my friend that confirmed it. She had an in-depth conversation with him earlier in the evening while I was speaking with his friend. During their convo, she discovered he was married and apparently, he inquired as to the likelihood of my accepting his advances. (Yup, I said "advances".) She told him there was zero chance if he was married, as she knew from only two nights earlier and the experience with the Englishman about my "no married men" rule.

People ask me why I'm still single. Do I really need to elaborate on that?