Sunday, December 05, 2004

Take My Breath Away

Watching every motion in this foolish lover's game
Haunted by the notion somewhere there's a love in flames

Imagine the scene:

Two women walk into a dimly lit bar where the soft light does little to cast shadows. The music was hard, thumping and throbbing the sexy sounds of classic Rock bands like AC/DC and ZZ Top. The women stride in, laughing in anticipation of the magical filled evening awaiting to be enjoyed. They are excited because THE BOY will be there. One's stomach is flip-flopping over the possibility of seeing HIM and the other is soaking up the energy emitted by the obvious chemistry between her friend and THE BOY.

Before we dive further into the events of the evening (which I know has everyone on the seat of their chairs), we should first take a look at what brought these two women to a loud bar on a Saturday evening. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the story of our two heroines, DM and Beth.

Travel back in time with us as we review the chapters of our story. If you don't know the story, read these posts:
First Contact
Singing Songs (aka - He f*cking sang Beth! It's a sign! D*mmit!)
Trick or Treat
A Wink and A Smile
Playing Kneesie (thanks DM for the new word (Her quote, "There was kneezing going on!")

Now, fast forward a little to this week. I wrote the post about knocking knees and the plans for Saturday night last Sunday night/Monday morning. The plans were set, DM and I were going to meet THE BOY and his friend, Pete, at a bar for darts and pool. I spent the week on a high from the thought of getting to know THE BOY a little better and finally, Saturday arrived.

DM stayed over after the Sheepsheadians (minus one - poor Keem, she's not feeling well) had fun playing cards at Fridleykins on Friday night. We giggled and smiled big, dopey grins and made our plans to be ready to boogie after I got off of work.

I took a moment to decide what to wear and my attire for the evening included blue jeans, my favorite boots, the evil bra that enhances an area I try to not enhance, a tight pink t-shirt and a herringbone button down shirt to wear open over the t-shirt. At work, I received many compliments over the outfit. Who knew?

As the evening of work drew to an end and the beginning of what I'm now going to refer to as THE DATE grew close, I managed to touch a chair and get grease all over my hands. As I look down at my hands, finally noticing the black smears, a banker on my team says, "What's that black stuff on your face?" That's right folks, I managed to get grease on my forehead and chin. The moment of realization is the same moment that the pager goes off and I'm given an escalated call from a woman upset because she has no money.

I get cleaned up and the evening of work ends without any other incidents. I drive off into the night, like a bat out of hell, to find DM. DM has also made sure to put herself together perfectly tonight, refraining from using the deodorant as hairspray. That's right, DM almost sprayed my deodorant in her freshly warshed hair. Giggle, it's okay.

We took off in my car to the designated meeting place. That brings us to the scene of a chaotic, dark, gloomy bar.

Do the heroines walk in to find THE BOY and Pete waiting patiently?

What do you think? Of course not. That would have been too easy. And too predictable.

The heroines decide to stick it out and order a round. Can you call sodas a round? I'm not entirely sure. But I will for now.

To kill some time, DM and Beth figure that the dart boards look inviting and plug some quarters into one of them, taking turns sending the little missiles towards the circle taunting them with it's little numbers. The women are just about finished with their first game of cricket (which may have been the longest game of cricket in history - oh wait, there was the next game) when Beth looks up to see a familiar face striding over to where our heroines are playing.

When one sees a person they recognize and are waiting for, the heart will sometimes play games with the owner. It might leap, it may bound, it may beat faster. This did not happen.


Because the familiar face was not THE BOY. It was Pete. And only Pete.

Where was THE BOY you ask? Well, I have that same question. It seems that I was not going on a date with THE BOY, but with THE BOY's friend, Pete.

HOW DID I END UP ON A DATE WITH PETE? As DM put it, "Did you like run over a nun one day?" God sure has one hell of a sense of humor.

Oh Internet, if only you could see us now. DM and I have perfected the deer in the headlights look. The "What -?" "Wasn't he?" "Huh?" "What the hell happened!?!" look.

DM has a theory that THE BOY was actually attacked by Pete and may still be tied up in the back of a pick-up truck somewhere.

There was a point in my life where I considered myself a reasonably intelligent woman. Then I seemed to be tricked in going on a date with Pete who I could define as having the character of a pillow. Not a cool pillow. No, just a plain, neutral colored throw pillow that you don't care about. One that someone you don't remember may have vomited on in the past. To give you an idea of how unremarkable this man is, DM and I had to remind ourselves several times tonight that his name is not actually Pete. We keep forgetting his real name.

Who wants highlights? Believe me, as much as the evening was dumbfounding, it was humorous.


When Pete comes over, he sees a nice looking man at the table next to us. The man and Pete exchange hellos, shaking hands and smiling at each other. A few moments later, Pete says to me, "You see that black man there?" I nod and he continues, "Yeah, I'm surprised to see him here again after we got into a fight over darts."

What? "A fight? Like a bar fight or just yelling at each other?" Why did I ask for clarification?

"THE BOY and I took him into the parking lot and beat him up. You know my friend, THE BOY?"

I have a blank look on my face. I'll be completely honest in saying that THE BOY lost mucho points because of this little story.

Later, in relaying this part of the evening to DM, she exclaimed, "But! They SHOOK hands!"

Internal commentary: If someone has taken me outside and beaten the crap out of me, I don't think my instinct would be to smile and shake hands with the asshole.

You know my friend, THE BOY?

To start at least 7 topics of conversation, Pete said to me, "You know THE BOY, my friend?" Did he need to ask??? Um, hello! That's who I thought I was going on a date with. Pete was there when THE BOY and I gazed into each other's eyes for 2 1/2 hours last Sunday. Of course I know THE BOY.

DM has a theory. She thinks that Pete's mind has convinced him that if he keeps mentioning THE BOY, I might think that Pete is THE BOY. I think Pete had a lobotomy at some point in his life. Although her theory goes a long way to describe why Pete wanted THE BOY to sing Jessie's Girl last Sunday at karaoke (Actually, when you think of it, DM has a lot of theories. She may actually believe in every conspiracy theory ever theorized).

Define Friendship

Pete has a classy way of discussing how much he adores his friends. I do have to give him credit, what he lacks in creativity he makes up in loyalty to the one two syllable word he seems to know. Every friend that Pete (I want to change his name to Pepe but that just might confuse DM and me even more) mentions is an "asshole."

Case in point. When Pete arrives late, he explains that he had been at the bar next door with his friends. They were supposed to tell him when it was midnight. He told me, "All my friends are assholes. Do you know THE BOY, my friend? He wasn't there."

The man standing at the bar was an asshole. Pete explained why. His quote (as much as I could understand in the drunken slur and loud music covering it up) was, "I was pissin' and he gave me the shoulder."

Um, what does that mean!?! I don't know. Maybe Matt could explain what the heck that means, since I'm sure he's used a urinal at least once. (Seriously folks, check out this link! It's soooooooooo worth it!)

OMG! OMG! I just had an apostrophe! (Yes, I used that word on purpose.) I think I realized what the shoulder is. For those guys out there, is this when a man is using the urinal and another man is using the adjacent urinal and bumps shoulders with you whilst you are relieving yourself? That's just so horrible and makes me glad to have to sit down when I pee.

I'm going to the bathroom

Before he came back to tell me that the tall guy "gave him the shoulder", he announced to me that he was going to use the bathroom. He leaned in (oh God, no!) and said, "If any of these guys hit on you ladies while I'm gone, you let me know."

And? Maybe I'll be thrilled. Because I'm so not into you! Hello!!! Are you blind? Did you have your head run over as a small child?

While Pete was in the restroom, another man approached our table and I realized why he looked familiar. Was he THE BOY? No. Sorry. I hate to disappoint, but THE BOY never made an appearance, other than to be brought up repeatedly by Pete. No, this man was familiar from a red shirt night at The Chalet. He's the one who likes to bathe in beer. I found out his name tonight. I guess it's Guru. (Okay, I can think of two male names that start with G. The name of this man and George. But I like George, so I won't taint the name by using it.) Luckily, Guru leaves quickly after Pete comes back and Pete lets me know, "He's an asshole." Who knew?

Music is in the Air

There is a jukebox in this bar and people were feeding it regularly this evening. I have no clue if this is normal for this place, Pete seemed surprised to see a popular bar filled with people at midnight on a Saturday evening. He seemed to think this was an unusual time of week for young (and not-so-young) adults to spend outside of the home. As I said before, he's a sharp one, that Pete.

I was enjoying the tunes of AC/DC and ZZ Top (bringing back fun memories of Bugs, there was a time when I had fun there) when Pete felt the need to talk about music. Give him credit, at least he realized that DM and I go to karaoke and like music. But then, I've never met anyone who has ever actually said, "I don't like music." It's always more specific. Like, "I don't like country music" or a type of genre or singer. Pete asked me if I liked the music playing. It was some song I'd never heard and I told him it was okay, but I like older rock. Then Steve Miller's "The Joker" came on.

This is the song with the line, "I really love your peaches, I want to shake your tree." He told me, "I bet this is your song." What he didn't seem to notice was the utter look of pain on my face from being subjected to this song 8-15 times a night during my nights at Bugs. I hate, I repeat, I HATE this song. It is evil.

Pete finally notices my disdain for "The Joker" and says, "I don't know if they've got any slow songs in there. Maybe there's some good ones."

Oh no. Oh HELL no. There is no way I am ever going to slow dance with Pete. I may amend my pledge to never give an enema to my friends. In fact, I think I would rather administer an enema to DM, Matt, or Keem before I would slow dance with Pete. And I don't want to give an enema to my friends. Do you get my point here? I hope so. I'm not going to toe around a dance floor with Pete. He's so not THE BOY (who I'm not sure if THE BOY actually got into a bar fight or not. Why would one shake hands and smile at the person who supposedly kicked his butt in the parking lot? That's just crack smoking.)


When Pete arrived, DM and I were playing darts drinking our usual beverage choices. I had my Coke and DM had her Diet Coke with a slice of lime (unfulfilling when not poured by the manly hands of Bobby). Pete has asked me at least 4 times at the Chalet what I was drinking. Each and every time I've answered Coke. There is no other nectar of the gods. And tonight, he asked me again.

He followed this up with, "Wanna beer?"

Um, let's see. I've told you I don't drink alcohol because I don't like the person I become when I drink. Granted, I get "friendly" and that may be what Pete was looking for, but NO WAY IN HELL!!!

I told him a firm no that was accompanied by a look of utter disgust. I don't like beer. I don't like the taste of any alcohol in fact. The only drink I've ever really liked are hurricanes and that's because they taste like fruit punch. And I'll avoid anything fruit punch tasting for quite some time after the Wopatui party. Thank you very much.

Attempting to obtain priviledged information

Well, maybe the information is not top secret or anything, but Pete tried to get me to open up about my life. I guess this is a normal date thing to do WHEN YOU'RE ON A DATE WITH SOMEONE YOU PLANNED ON GOING OUT WITH!!! He asked me about work. I told him it was boring. Then he said, "So you sell phones." It wasn't even a question. It was a statement, matter of fact. I had told him, prior to the statement of idiocy, that I work at a bank in a call center. What makes him think I sell phones? Seriously, the lobotomy theory is starting to look realistic.

Pete asked me, "What bars do you go to?"

Let's see here. I told you I don't drink. DM doesn't drink. You know this. Every time you bring up a bar, I look at you blankly and state I've never been there. I go to one bar. That's The Chalet. And that's because Bryan sings. Is Pete really that dense or am I just being harsh? Well, screw him (wait a minute, please don't. I don't want that image.) He harshed my buzz by showing up THE BOY-free.

Pete asked me if I wanted to go to the bar next door that is more of a club than a bar. I declined. I am not a clubbin' girl. I tried that scene by going to the gay bars with Adam for awhile, but that's another story.

Pete tried a different approach to get me to go to the club next door. I laughed, holding back the gales of snorts that wanted to come out when he said this next phrase.

"You're the best lookin' girl there."

What? I need to know what this means. Does it mean:
A) The girls next door have bigger red zits in the middle of their faces that are bigger than the one residing on my face.
B) The girls next door have roots longer than mine (I really need to do something with this color)
C) The girls next door have smaller tits than I do

I'm thinking it might be C.

I really wanted to reply, "But I'm not there. I'm here." I couldn't get it out over the uncontrollable fit of laughter though. Darn.


At one point, Pete said something to DM that seemed longer than three words. I asked her what he said.
DM: I can't hear anything.
B: How can you hear me?
DM: I don't know. That's odd.
B: It must be telepathy. Guess what I'm thinking right now.

It doesn't take telepathy to guess what I was thinking. If you don't know by now, you haven't been reading. I was thinking, HOW DID I END UP ON A DATE WITH PETE? What did I do to deserve this bad karma?

The Game

We did play a partial game of cricket with Pete. It was the longest dart game of my life. It wouldn't end. Evil! Evil, I say! He used my darts and that was fine. They're darts. They're meant to be thrown at a wall. It's just it took a long time to play and I wanted out. Also, I found it rather strange when he kept blowing on the darts for luck. It's not like it's Vegas. And you're so not that cool.

He kept doing the "bumping" thing. It's when a guy holds out a fist and bumps it against another person's fist. Why he does this, I don't know. But it got really old and really annoying really fast.


Pete explained to me that someone had stolen his baseball cap while he was next door at the other bar. I didn't know he had a baseball cap, so I don't know why he needed to tell me all about it. He said, "Someone stole my baseball cap, that's why I look like crap." Dude, a cap wouldn't help. Come to Jesus and accept the light, okay? Stop fooling yourself.

The End of the Affair or Why DM is the Greatest Friend on Earth

The evening ended abruptly when DM had a moment of revelation and found the exit to our disastrous evening. I love her.

Thank you to the drama teacher DM had in high school.

What did she do? Well, she took her breath away and helped take us away from Pete. DM faked an asthma attack. We were able to tell Pete that we had to get her to her apartment for her inhaler or I would have to take her to the hospital.

We escaped. Pete felt the need to walk us to the car and then stood outside waving goodbye with a big smile on his face. I politely waved and once out of sight, DM and I started our three hour long laughter fit and our questioning, "HOW DID I END UP ON A DATE WITH PETE?" vants.

The thing is, Pete is the one who mentioned going out. But he did it after confirming with THE BOY and THE BOY followed it up by looking me in the eye saying, "That would be great!" And Pete's invitation was phrased as, "Would you ladies like to join US next Saturday night?" Who is US if THE BOY wasn't there? Does Pete have multiple personalities? If he does, couldn't he use one that actually has a personality?

Don't get me wrong, Pete's not bad looking or anything, he's just not someone I'm interested in at all. There's no sparkle in his eye, no charisma, no character. I like a guy who's funny and intelligent. And who doesn't mind making a fool of himself.

At least he didn't have a miner's light strapped to his forehead. There may be hope for my future dating life yet.


At 7:38 AM, CarpeDM said...

As I'm reading this, you just screamed out the question you've been asking yourself (and me and our two favorite waitresses at Fridleykins) all night "HOW DID I END UP ON A DATE WITH (insert Pete's real name here)?" And I looked at you blankly and said "Who?" And then said "Oh. Yeah. Pete."

This has seriously been the weirdest evening I have ever been a part of.

You know what this means, right? We're so going to have to get to karaoke early and explain to Bryan and Michael that when Pete mentions my asthma attack, they should look sincerely concerned for my health. And not burst out laughing like I know they will want to...because that would be just wrong.

Questions that will remain unanswered:

So, when you and Pete get married, do you think THE BOY will finally sing "Jessie's Girl?"

Do you think THE BOY has finally broken free of his bonds? Because seriously, Pete had to have sucker punched him. Just to spend some quality time with "the ladies."

And what was with the creepy dude at the pool hall? Did you notice him giving you the eye all night? I think you kind of scared him off with the occasional screams of "How the hell did I end up on a date with Pete?"

Why don't we have any church going friends so we can call them and have them intervene with God for us? Because He must be seriously ticked off with us for something.


At 10:46 AM, The Lioness said...

This was a nightmare, I feel defrauded, can't imagine what YOU feel! HORROR!!! IAIKS. Bloody hell, how did this happen? And theis THE BOY is beginning to lose some of his attractiveness, beating up people, being friends with a git, saying he'd come and then not showing, oy. DISGRACEFUL!!! I'm v annoyed at TB. VERY.

At 12:01 PM, Matt said...

Little Sister,
I am not all that impressed with THE BOY right now, really not. I can't imagine why he would not want to be there to get to know you, other than the fact that DM might be right and he was restrained in some way. Either by Peg Leg Pete, or possibly Zorak went mental and confined him to her lair. I, like the Lioness, feel defrauded and am angry with TB.

Now as for the whole beating people up thing, in some way I feel as if Pete was trying to make TB not look so good to you. It screamed to me "my friend-you know the asshole-is truly an asshole. Yes I know that everyone I mention is an asshole, but this is why TB is such an asshole...". Pete may not be the brightest bulb on the tree come christmas time, but that does not mean that he is blind and could not see the look of utter disappointment when TB was not there.

I do not think that you ran over a nun at some point in your life, however that was amusing. Just to think of the poor habit wearing person trying to outrun a car in her skirts....priceless.

As for the "shoulder", I don't know. I know that I come very close to being the person in our circle of firends that seems to be the expert on urinals, but I don't know what the shoulder is. I at first thought that he meant he was annoying the person so much at the urinal because he was, oh I don't know, talking while he was peeing, that the person pissed on his shoulder. Because believe me, when you are trying to use the urinal, or even the stall so that you are not a target for Chatty Cathy's in the bathroom, and someone decides to talk to you while you pee, I could see myself getting so angry that I might pee on their shoulder.

The whole shaking hands with someone that you had the beat the hell out of? Well, first of all, only if you were in the ring with someone and it was a sanctioned sporting event does this ever happen. Otherwise the victim of the beating, well they tend to stay away from the place of the crime, unless they are bringing back "some of their boys with lead pipes and are planning on gettin' midevil" on the ass of the person that beat them. So here I think that Ol' Shifty-Eye Petey was trying to make himself look more manly.

Maybe you could answer this for me, I do not know why it is that men seem to think that the more macho they are, the more women they will have around them. Because if I am wrong, and we know that that hardly happens (to interject here: Yes that was sarcasam, to prove my point I will just type this: World's First Bigfoot Hooker Tells All) but listening, actually listening, to a woman is what seems to be the biggest attraction point around. EWho cares how many people have been beaten up by your hands? Who cares if you can pee farther than anyone else around? Who cares if you have more hair on your abck than a grizzly? Get over yourself and stop wasting the time of someone that has better things to do then worship you, you lower form of scum life.

I am sorry that the night was not what you wanted, but I am glad to hear the night was ended in laughter, and that DM channeld her drama teacher and faked an asthma attack. Kudos to her for that performance, I am sure it was Oscar worthy.

Hopefully I will be there tonight, I am not sure if I can make it or not, I have not been to karoke for some time, and I might sound like shit (which I normally do anyway) when I get up to sing. I will see if I can make it tonight......

Hope you have a good day today, feel free to call whenever you want, you know that.

Your Big Brother,

P.S. Yes I had to stop myself from swearing quite a bit on this comnment, and yes I had to restrain myself from becoming a monstrous big brother and breaking and throwing things because of the anger that I have at Pete and THE BOY. Which, coincedentelly (?) seems to be a fitting name for someone that wants to act the way he did, and seems to act with Pete, if those stories are true.

At 11:38 AM, Firebear said...

I was worried about this. For some reason the way you described it gave me a bad feeling.

This pisses my off. Boys like this cause problems. Making it hard for an actual adult to get a date. Stupid games, bait and switch, I never played them and real men do not. Even though I don't, because other people like to play games, I am suspect. That because everyone does it, I must do it too. Do not let these idiots get to you.

What you have is Pete, too shy to ask you out, and the boy, who figured he could help a buddy and devert your attention to Pete.

At least you have a good friend like DM there.

One other thing, the peeing standing up thing is just much easier then the sitting. Whip it out, boom, you are done. I was at a bar one night and my friend was complaining about the long wait in the ladies room. I told her, they need a troth, like what we have in the mens room. Makes everything quicker!


At 2:34 PM, srmc said...

All I can say is OH MY GOD!!!!!!!