I guess technically this incident should not be classified as a date since I definitely started the night off “date-less.” I met up with some friends for happy hour, and once it died down we migrated to a smaller, more low key bar where my bestie’s man candy was hanging out.
We grabbed a couple of drinks and the next thing I know there is a guy shouting across the bar at me, “you’re freaking gorgeous!”
At me? No way, couldn’t be. I give a questioning look.
But he was. He nods, points.
“YOU. You really are. You’re gorgeous!”
I mouth a bashful “thank you” back and return back to the group’s conversation, but he has already made his way over to us.
“You are so beautiful,” he says again and again I say “thank you.”
He’s kind of cute in an older, Brad Pitt (but definitely not Brad Pitt) in Fight Club, military cut kind of way.
I engage in conversation. Turns out he likes crawfish, baseball and big dogs. Ok we’re doing good here!
He lives in Oregon, is divorced… back track 50 steps, but he still can’t stop telling me that I am “so freaking gorgeous.”
Did someone put you on repeat mode tonight dude?
I get it. You’re drunk. You’re in town for one weekend and you’re looking for a good time. Do I seem that desperate/stupid?
“Can I get a picture with you? You’re so fucking beautiful and my friends back home will never believe me.” And he whips out a digital camera.
Calm down boy scout.
But I play along. I mean, it’s kind of funny, not going to lie. He’s at least got personality…and he’s not dry-humping my leg. (see bad dating: part one for clarification).
Yes, yes. All fun and games… Until his friends leave him at the bar. Lucky me.
I’m guessing we went through several more minutes of his one-liner before closing time. I really didn’t know what to do with him. My friend offered her couch, but I’m thinking “Call a cab. Call a cab. Please don’t linger. I’m not drunk enough to be mean, not sober enough to care.” so, he happily follows behind us with his “you’re so beautiful” soundtrack on repeat.
It’s nearly 3am when we get to her place and I have one thing on my mind. S-L-E-E-P (find out what it means to me…no really).
I have to work at 8am. Meaning, I lay down, lights out and sleep in silence. And solitude! Not “but you’re so beautiful” serenades throughout the night on the air mattress… that I’d blown up for myself.
Wouldn’t a real gentleman take the couch?! Really? Jerk. *grumble*
Good thing my friend bought the most comfy furniture EVER and keeps a blanket on the couch. A super warm, extra soft one at that! Take that bed stealer.
At 7:22, I annoying plop down on the air mattress to wake him up.
“ugh. It’s so early, why are you awake?”
“Bc I have a life here in Houston and you need to go.”
“Oh. Are you driving me?”
“Nope. You can call a cab.”
“Yes. I need to leave…10 minutes ago.” (I lie.)
“I’m sorry. Well, what do you need me to do?”
“Get your happy butt up and on the curb” *big fake smile*
He does as told (good boy) and I walk towards my car.
“Well this has to be the most awkward walk of shame ever.”
“Yep,” I say as I hop into my car, lock the doors and hurriedly drive off.
Pretty sure we all know the moral here.