Good morn', folks! This post comes to you from my receptionist desk at work, where for the past couple weeks, I have generally been so bored that I'm surprised I haven't already caved and wrote a blog post! For some reason, there's just not been a lot for me to do lately (probably because it's summer), and I have, honest to goodness, exhausted all the piddly busy work I can conceive of. A short list of things I have managed to get away with at work recently: checking personal email; checking Facebook; checking online bank statements; reading daily horoscopes; glancing at the 10-day forecast; and staring blankly at the computer screen, sipping coffee like a junkie. I don't anticipate that any of my church co-workers have access to this blog, which is why I'm not sweating such public confessions. Let's just hope a future employer doesn't somehow stumble across this by Googling my name...
Anyway, there is actually a story I have to tell, as my post title indicates, and I find it to be quite amusing myself, so hopefully ya'll faithful readers agree. So, last night after work, I hooked up with some friends in Portland for drinks, and we went to a fairly low-key bar in the Hollywood District that we're familiar with and has dirt-cheap drinks ($2.50 microbrews, anyone?). There were quite a few folks in the group, so conversation was lively, and due to one of them celebrating a birthday, liquor was a-flowin' (shout-out to the dude who bought me two shots in honor of said birthday--I made it out of there with a whopping $5.00 tab!). Everything was fine and dandy, until I decided to interrupt the conversation a couple friends were having with a random guy sitting at the bar. Turns out this was a very serious convo, as he was a veteran, recently back home from Afghanistan, who had lost a number of fellow soldiers in the war. Of course, I didn't know this, so I introduced myself in bubbly form, which seemed to really irritate this guy. It did not take long, however, for him to point out every man in the group and ask if I was dating them. It also did not take long for him to slip his skeezy arm around my waist while I was standing there talking to him, and then make deliberate gravitations toward my gluteal area. I was just buzzed enough to tolerate this temporarily, until he proceeded to ask for my number, to which I replied that I wasn't interested in dating anyone. His response, predictably enough, was, "Neither am I." Dot dot dot...
Ultimately, he did not obtain my digits, despite a couple tries, and my friends and I left the bar at closing time, talking outside for a bit. One of the friends that had been initially conversing with this man told me that the bartender--easily 20 years older than him--was his girlfriend. Yes, his girlfriend, and had apparently closed the bar a bit early out of visible anger at his bold flirtation. I had specifically asked him, in an attempt to carry the conversation and not have him stare creepily at me, if he had a girlfriend and also if he came to the bar often. He said no to both. Well, at this point I was mildly amused, but felt pretty bad for his bartender girlfriend. Aaaaand, then she came storming out of the bar, confronted me on the sidewalk, and said, "Ok, I just want to hear the truth. Did he ask you out? I saw him touching your butt and all that, did he ask you out?" Blindsided, I dopily asked, "Is he your boyfriend?" When the response was affirmative, I rushed to the defensive, saying, "I didn't know that until right now, just so you know, so I'm sorry for not backing away sooner." She impatiently interrogated once again whether he had asked me out. Not knowing whether to betray skeezy boyfriend or lie to betrayed (but irate) bartender, I forfeited: "Yes, he asked for my number." I'm pretty sure I probably winced, in mild anticipation of a slap to the face or pull to the hair, but fortunately she just said, "Thanks, that's all I needed to know!" I hope when she stormed back in to the bar she promptly dumped her player of a cougar cub!
Anyway, that was my nightlife drama of the year so far. And now it's about quittin' time, as I've managed to waste away about an hour of productivity time on this here blog. Yay me! Peace...
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