Friday, September 30, 2011

Bushwacked.

Although I don't have much of an explanation, other than the infamous 'we should see other people' text, Paratrooper and I are doing exactly that.  But fret not, friends, I did manage to get a fifth of whiskey out of the deal, so it was not a complete bust.

With that being said, I needed to get back out and collect some blog material.  I decided to meet up with a guy at 3Crow this week after my regularly scheduled margarita night.  3Crow had two-for-one drafts, and since I already had a couple-ish margaritas in me and it was a school night, I opted for the drafts instead of the infamous bushwacker.

It wasn't an actual date of sorts, it was really more of a "hey, let's meet for drinks" situation.  We grabbed seats up at the bar, ordered a round and started chatting.  The conversation was enjoyable, he's a music buff and put a great effort into convincing me of all the reasons why I needed to go to Bonaroo, I had to assure him that for the simple fact that I like to wear shoes and take showers, Bonaroo probably was not in my future any time soon.

The second round of beers came up and we were still chatting away having a fairly enjoyable time, and just like that, we were moving on to round 3.  It wasn't terribly late yet, so I figured why not just stay out a bit longer, what's the worst that could happen?

Just as round 4 was being served, and as I was in motion to take a giant sip.  My ex walked in.  Not just any ex.  This ex was from college, from sophomore year, in Michigan.  I am sitting at the Mecca to all of East Nashville's hipsters and my ex GIRLFRIEND walks into the bar.  That's correct, this particular ex is of the female variety.  We dated back in college when I was still dealing the Bi card, or perhaps the Tri card...I'd try anything once.

Before I knew it, I was choking from shock and had Bud Lite coming out of my nose.  I am sure I was quite the sight, with beer fizz burning the insides of my nostrils, my eyes tearing up, and trying to catch a breath as my ex-college girlfriend lets out an enthusiastic scream, waves, and runs over.  She and I have not really kept in touch since we broke up, on Valentine's Day, back in the dorms during sophomore year.  We are still FaceBook friends, why wouldn't we be?

Back in college she had every piece of Tiffany's 'Return To' collection imaginable and drove a Lexus.  She was definitely a spoiled Sorostitute and was the type of person who attended college for her Mrs. degree as opposed an actual field of academia.  Come to think of it, I'm fairly certain she majored in Communication.  Don't get me wrong, she was hot, questionably fake boobs and all, but I never imagined I would ever see her again, let alone in East Nashville, in 3Crow Bar of all places.  Sure enough, she remembered just who I was and gave me an almost awkwardly long, you're starting to choke me, sort of hug.

She asked how I'd been, which is always a bit difficult to answer when you haven't seen someone in about 6 years.  If she ever had partaken in the casual sport of light FaceBook stalking, surely she'd know a thing or two about the last few years of my life.  Afterall, I'm sporting a picture of myself decked out in a stunning red sequin gown.

I was still so completely shocked about even seeing her, that I completely forgot to introduce my date or even pay attention to anything she was rambling on about.  She told me she's in town for just a couple of days, sort of passing through for work.  Idly chatting with my ex seemed like it was taking forever, and not at any point in the conversation did anyone she would have come to the bar with step over to see where she had gone off to.  She seemed to go on forever about her days post-undergrad, and now that I wasn't shocked, I was losing interest.  Suddenly, in one quick breath she said "We should grab drinks, who is your friend?"

It still had no occurred to me that proper introductions had yet to be made, and to keep this night from getting any stranger, because now I was worried that she'd want to pull up a seat and stay even longer, all I could say was "Well I'm gay, and we're on a date."

I thought for sure this would throw her for a loop, no ex girlfriend wants to hear that her ex boyfriend is a homo, right?  And she must have known that she was the last girl I dated, right?

I fully expected her to be quite upset, but she cheerfully replied; "Fun!"

Well at the moment, this was probably as much fun as a one legged man in a kicking contest would be having and now I regretted not getting the bushwacker.   After a bit more idle conversation, my ex said she should probably get going but wanted to make sure that I still had her number.

Why on Earth would I still have her number?!  Being polite, I took her number and said I'd shoot her a text...which of course has yet to happen...she hugged me again, said she'd still love to get drinks, and ended the conversation with "gay, huh? so fun."

This was not so fun, more like so bizarre, and with my luck I've probably just created a new hag.  Now when it comes to dating, nothing surprises me anymore.  I just need to roll with the punches, and frankly,  I've been bushwacked.  

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Hocus Pocus.

Well I spent most of last Friday night scantly clad in a red sequin toga.  The Grizzlies threw another beer bust, this one was obviously a Toga Party.  As the reigning Most Bejeweled, and with just a month to go until I reclaim the throne for another year, I had a title to uphold, so of course I chose sequin fabric to fashion a modest toga out of.

The Paratrooper and I, both toga clad, though his was an old bed sheet from college, headed to Tribe for a night of beer busting with the rugby team.  And for inquiring minds, things are going just swell with PT, nothing official, but at this point in time, enjoying each others' company.

The night was going well.  PT was doing his own thing, mingling with people he wanted to talk to, and I was doing mine.  Unlike previous beer bust nights, I wasn't scouting the crowd for any prospects.  Although PT and I are not attached at the hip, we arrived together, and therefore would be leaving together as well.

I was making my usual rounds, and picked up Rugger JR along the way.  The routine became to drink a beer or two  and take a loop around the bar to see if there were any opportunities to see or be seen.  Of course, when in just a swatch of red sequined fabric, it's difficult to not be seen.  It didn't take many laps around the bar before offers came in for free drinks from various onlookers.  Well of course, I was obliged to accept just a couple drinks, and if it came to the point of conversation where it was time to exchange names, I gave the name of my wealthy alias; Hunter Greene.

I had a great time with PT and the rest of the team, and as the night wore on, eventually we made our way over to Play for a few more drinks.  I knew before long that PT and I should bow out gracefully, as to prevent a repeat performance of the last time we found ourselves on Play's dance floor surrounded by a sea of laser beams and dry ice smoke.  The night ended and that was that.  I couldn't believe that I had successfully made it through an entire Grizzlie night with nothing more to talk about than just a few free drinks.

The weekend passed, and I got back to the grind at my M-F job.  I had a few minutes in between meetings and home visits, so I stopped by a local coffee shop for an afternoon pick me up.  I had just received my drink and figured I could sit down for just a minute to enjoy it.  I was suddenly engrossed in sipping my "mint to bee" and crossing off the completed tasks in my agenda.  As I was x-ing through the days with a green highlighter, I suddenly got that erie prickly feeling that someone was staring at me...and sure enough, when I looked up there was a rotund, furry, creepy man with long greasy black hair and an Aeropostale graphic tee standing just inches from me.  I was caught a bit off guard and perhaps slightly confused.

All I could think to say was, "Did you need something?"

The creeper asked if I had been at Tribe for the toga party, and had I been wearing a red toga?  Of course this was true, but I wasn't really sure what would happen if I were to confirm such information.  Then I quickly recalled the couple of free drinks that I had accepted that night, and one surely did not come from him.  Completely unamused by this chance encounter, I said that I had.  He apologized for bothering me, but said I was handsome and disappointed we did not get to talking at the bar.  Personally, I was thrilled I did not notice him and/or speak with him, clearly his social skills are a bit rusty.  He then said I could check him out on Plenty of Fish if I were interested in getting to know more about him and slipped me a napkin with a screen name and telephone number written on it.

Well, I wasn't interested in chatting any more with him, but my curiosity got the best of me and I had to at least do some light dating site stalking.  Plus, it really isn't stalking if he just outright gave me the information that I needed to know.  Perhaps his profile would give me some insight as to what hotspots I need to avoid and at what times, as to not cross paths again.  I really don't like when people from previous events spot me out in public and create an incredibly awkward social situation...don't they know that's what Craigslist Missed Connections are for?!

As soon as I got a free moment I checked out the profile in question.  Turns out, my new acquaintance has 'Every day Witch' listed for his profession.  His interests include drawing, tarot, and witchcraft.  I did not even need to read any further, this guy was already a catch from the get-go.  But I was under the impression that witches were usually female, and wizards were male.  Apparently I learned nothing from my investment in both reading and watching the 'Harry Potter' series.  Scrolling even further down his page I had to take a moment to read then decipher his About Me;

"hi how r yall? Lookin round for my soulmate. I kno i mite not find him here, but worth a shot. Im a down to earth, fun loving guy lookin for same. I kno how to have a good time, and i kno how to be serious wen need be. the guy who liks the same things i do wuld be good to.  practic witchcraft so if thats is a problem dont bother. Hope to hear from yall :D" 

The incredibly horrific spelling grated my last nerve, and I'm really not one to take interest in the dark arts.  If I ever need a witchcraft fix I'll just watch my favorite dark arts movie...'Hocus Pocus'.   I thought it was odd though, that an every day witch could not just conjure up an every day spell to help correct his every day spelling and word use.

How do these sorts of people find me?  Whatever it is I do that attracts the weirdest of the weird, I need to figure it out and discontinue it ASAP.  But now I am on The Witch's radar, and I sure hope he did not have time to cast a quick spell on me before he walked out of the coffee shop.  Before I could even log out of the site he had sent me a quick little note just to say hi.

"hi man, seen that u had lokked up my page.  what r yu into? i'm a fun loving guy looking for the same. avrage build, 510'' 285 brown hair.   ever have ur tarot read? i do those. maybe we can meet up soon.  we probablt have alot in comon.  moives r aweful for first datees. Too loud. I would like a nice dinner then a walk on the beach   get back to me"

I should have left well enough alone, and not even bothered looking up his profile.  Sadly, I have to pass at the offer to have my tarot read to me on the beach by an overweight every day witch, which by the way, 285 lbs is not an average build unless you are an every day football player.  There is no way this was a match made by the stars; I don't feel as though we have anything in common.  I enjoy proper spelling, grammar, and leading a normal muggle life style, and frankly, the male witch did NOT even have a pair of ruby slippers.