I get a call during my lunch on a Tuesday afternoon which I choose to ignore since it’s from a number I don’t recognize. I also ignore the second call from the same number minutes later, and the message that was left, I decided, until I'm at least done eating. But the third phone call gets the better of my curiosity and I answer, thinking this person has called me three times in a row. Maybe it's important.
Wrong.
The voice says “hi, it’s “Brian”, from the bar.” I am now scrambling my brain to try and remember who he is and I have to be honest the name’s not ringing a bell. So I decide to engage him in some conversation to listen to the voice and see if a picture pops into my head.
Oh does it ever.
I remember this guy because he was bugging the HELL out of me while I was trying to hit on someone else. (Who I have already blogged about so don’t get too excited) I remember Brian for a few different reasons.
A. He has the most piercing blue eyes I have ever seen in my life, and being a sucker for blue eyes I can’t help but notice. That’s where the good part ends.
B. He’s very skinny, leathery and looks like he knows his way around a crack pipe
C. He made reference to how much he likes “chubby girls” while waggling his tongue at me which apparently was supposed to be some sort of sign that he's generous and perhaps even good at oral sex
I quickly throw him a card with my number (yes, my real number) in an attempt to get him to go away so I can continue working on my next victim. The problem is then when he calls and I answer, he’s nice. He talks about his job and his family and how much he adores all three of his daughters, which he tells me, are all on the larger size. Damn, I’m a jerk. He ends the call asking me if I would mind if he calls me again in a few days. How could I say no?
A few days later, true to his word, he calls. Talks a little more about his life, asks about mine and towards the end of the phone call asks if I’m going to be at the bar that Friday so we can get to know each other a little better. I let him know that I couldn’t make it that Friday but I would definitely be there the next Friday after that. He says great, he can’t wait to see me again and tells me he’ll call me again in a couple of days.
Except that he doesn’t. Nothing, poof, gone. WTH? Seriously? This guy wasn’t even my type but since he was nice I decided to not judge the book by its cover. I mean after all I am certainly not the specimen of womanly perfection by any means but for some old, wrinkly, God only knows if he even had all of his frickin teeth in his head jackass to just drop me like a hot potato. Well that is certainly a blast to the ol ego.
I will admit at this point I haven’t been back to the bar. I don’t know if I want to. I don’t want to hear some lame excuse of this or that. We all have issues, and at this point I’m not interested in his. Or any one else’s for that matter. Quite frankly I give up! Kate really does hate dates. This my friends, just might be the death of my blog.
