Here it is Thursday morning and all I can hear in my head is the Mamas and the Papas singing "Monday Monday." Someone help me out and find a song about Wednesday, hump day. Crap. Now I have thoughts of sex stuck in my head with a Mamas and Papas soundtrack.
I had figured out the plan for Wednesday way back on Monday. So much for plans though. I think the theme for Wednesday was "getting sidetracked."
While running an errand for work, I decided to give one of the CL guys a call. We quickly discovered that we were in the same city. He asked me exactly where I was. It was 2 p.m. at precisely this moment and I didn't really need to say where I was because it was quite obvious. As it turns out, we were about a few blocks away from eachc other. He picked a spot that was a bit closer to me because I was on foot and he was on skateboard. Yeah, you heard me. He was on a skateboard, but I knew he probably would be because he was in one of the two pictures that he sent me. (Of course seeing that picture my first thought was, "My goodness. I certainly hope that I am not about to commit some crime here." If he should make it into any future posts, he will be known as "Sk8r boi." Oh, and he's 28.) We met up and sat and chatted. Then he had to get going because he was starving. I could have gone but I had had lunch hours before. As we parted ways, I told him my real name and assured him that yes, I would be calling later because we also realized that we live about six blocks away from each other. After having dinner, I called. Ended up heading over to his place and watching the sunset from the roof while having a beer. Then he realized that he hadn't had dinner. Since I had already eaten, I left.
I could have gone home at this point but I had had a plan. Besides, it was only 9:30. Let me go back to Monday night. That was when I called Emerald and Kate. (Kate is my college roommate.) Emerald remembered that the first time she went to this place was last year for my birthday. Jade joined us. By the end of the evening, Jade had decided that the bartender was interested in me. Who? Me? Nah, he was just trying to get a good tip. So what if he eavesdropped on our conversation and then joined in? So what if everytime he had a free moment, he was back chatting with us? That means nothing. It's all about the tip, I tell ya. I made the mistake of telling Emerald that Kate also said that she thought that the bartender was interested because she thought he was more attentive than he needed to be. Emerald pointed out that she often misses the subtleties in human behavior whereas Jade and Kate do not. She therefore feels that the majority rules and I should act accordingly.
This is where my shyness and insecurities enter. Y'all never guessed that about me, did you? As I have told many a person, I am just a shy person who has learned to overcompensate for her shyness every now and then. The best I can do around a guy who I truly find interesting is to clam up. Otherwise I'm a babbling fool. Bottom line is that I sit there thinking, "What if he doesn't like me and I make a total idiot of myself?" This is not a hypothetical. I have done this in the past. Now I'm all for making a total idiot of yourself -- as long as you have nothing to lose. I am not ready to give up my favorite bartender.
Part of the reason why I enjoy going to the place is because of my fave bartender. I think we all need that person in our lives with whom it is safe to flirt but also know that it will go no further. Who knows though? Perhaps one day I will have enough liquid courage to cross that line, but it wasn't Wednesday.
Instead I first met two women who insisted that I come join them. So much for my plan of flirting with the bartender because they were seated at a table away from the bar. We talked. We drank. We laughed. Then around 11 or so they had to leave.
That was OK because by then I had run into this other woman who is a regular. She in turn introduced me to this other woman who is the girlfriend of the bass player of the band that was playing. They were also sitting at the bar -- back on track. We chatted about what had happened to the Irish boy who used to manage the place. We talked about the slimy guy who kept on trying to pick up on every woman who came within three feet of him. We talked about the young women who were trying to flirt with her boyfriend. She said that she felt like a groupie when she goes out to hear him play. I told her, "No, sweetheart. You are a Band Aid." Then there was that lovely moment when she left for the bathroom and I desperately was trying to get rid of this random guy. Why? Because you've got to love a guy who opens with, "So have you ever dated a white guy?" I responded with, "If you had said Native American, we could have had something because that's the group I'm concentrating on currently." Obviously he was drunk because he wouldn't leave. Or maybe he was just stupid.
The Band Aid returned eventually and we continued chatting. The final part of our conversation was about the bartender. He's single. She knows this because he once asked one of her friends out. He went out with her friend once but nothing more came of it. So now I am her new project. It also looks like I will have to go out again on Friday night because they asked and I said that I would show up.
And for now? Well, now I have to go answer some more emails from that CL ad. While I was out last night, I got another response. And he's kind of cute. And he's French. Of course, I should probably also write to the guy who belongs to a golf club or the one who owns a sailboat but that's just my inner Holly talking again.
No comments:
Post a Comment