A few nights ago, I managed to get all my hairs to lay down in one direction, ran a brush across my teeth and headed out into the unseasonably cold, dark, narcotic American night.
I'd say winter is subletting spring right now, but its more like squatting. Another dash of wet snow, another night full of people climbing the walls.
I sat at my corner stool at Governor's and hoped to run into Boone.
Lou was working the bar alone and he was kinda in the weeds. I've never been here when it's this busy. It was a little disconcerting, like walking in and finding a bunch of strangers in your office.
Lou set my beer down with a “hey buddy”, his face brightened just for a minute before he went back about his work. I'll bet you he's wishing he didn't offer drink specials because he's getting his ass handed to him right now by a group of 40 something fellows in the adjacent room.
No Boone yet...but to my right there's an older guy/younger girl combo. In my periphery I can see his hand climbing up and down her thigh. She must've put the skirt on earlier in the day when the temperature was still decent. It's a bit early for a skirt that high, pale skin be damned. She kept grabbing big hunks of his chest and jerking him closer. Then shoving him back. After a big, open-mouthed kiss, she grabbed a bill from the stack in front of them and headed over to the juke box.
“Sorry...” he said, not looking up, arranging his clothing. His date had punched up an awful number on the juke and began gyrating suggestively. Her date blushed, scooped up the stack of bills and muttered something along the line of he was getting too old for this shit.
It sure isn't like in the movies.
Talking too much. That's a definite problem. For a lot of guys it isn't knowing how to start a conversation, but knowing when to shut up. This guy didn't have that problem, it was clearly one of those dates; down and dirty. He's putting up a good fight, but he'll feel it a little too hard to smile through tomorrow. They say you should be yourself on a date, but what if you're an asshole? C'mon, on...usually on a first date everyone is smilin' and putting their best foot forward. Like anything, you need practice. Especially if you've been out of the game for awhile. If you go on too long, you're bound to screw things up.
No wonder so many people are getting cleaned up to go to farmer's markets and coffee shops. Going online. You don't have to go through all that horse shit, that whole carousel of mingling. Plus as the night wears on you're dealing with people whose standards are lowering in proportion with the beer they've drank. You can hang out at one of the hip places and pretend you're not trying to get in someone's pants, or you can bring your clandestine tryst to a place like this and play grab ass in the shadows. Me? I think I need a wingman. I drank my pint, paid Lou, and went home to play my guitar on Gchat. Good trade.
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