A Few Colonel's Short of a Bag of Popcorn

We all know “that guy”. Sure it might be a different “that guy” for all of us. For one of you it might be someone who’s phone call you dread, for another you duck and run from him at a party, maybe he’s the creepy guy who leers at you every time you see him or the guy that when he talks he stands a little too close for comfort. You know… “that guy”. For me it’s a friend of a friend, an acquaintance that’s grown into a strange friendship. One I’ve learned to love and even tolerate.

“Colonel Dan” is an interesting character to say the least, but for this story what you need to know is that he’s not too savvy when it comes to the world of computers. He’s got a few items he wants to sell on Craig’s List and doesn’t have a clue how to do that. That’s where I come in. I volunteer my services knowing it will take mere minutes and don’t give it a second thought. Colonel Dan tells me that when the items sell, he will take me to dinner for my troubles. I just nod and uh-huh him, never intending to hold him to this. After all what I’m doing is not really all that hard.

Well to my chagrin he holds me to it. Pushy about it even. After several times of me cancelling and rescheduling I finally cave and agree to meet for dinner. Friday night, 6:30. At 6:45 I get a phone call from him asking for the directions. I tell him he’s right around the corner and give him what he need to get the rest of the way there. At 7 he shows up at the restaurant cussing, telling me he missed the entrance, TWICE and how the parking lot is too small for his truck. This has certainly started well. He then he asks me why I’m not at the bar. I tell him I’m waiting for him. Colonel Dan then tells me he wouldn’t have waited for me and heads in that direction. As soon as he gets there he asks me where the restroom is and tells me to order him a beer and a shot.

We eventually get to our table and the waitress comes over to take our order. He gets stuck on salad. He wants “you know, that dressing, not French” After a long list of flavors apparently he wanted Ranch. It is at this point I realize that he’s thrown back a few prior to his arrival and I know the evening is only going to get more interesting.

I continue with dinner by trying to make conversation and I ask him if he’s doing anything exciting this weekend. “Yeah, I’m going to Georgia” Awesome I say, for what? “Piece of ass” I should have known better. I guess this sparks the charm and wit center in his brain because he then proceeds to tell me that if I lose 100 pounds” things might start hap-nin” and if I lose 200 he’ll marry me. Wow, how can I resist? I let him know that the last person who said that to me was my EX- boyfriend and I told him to go fuck himself. He just laughs it off and continues talking and attempting to chew with his mouth open, all the while food is falling onto his shirt. Awesome.

After the minutes seem to drag on, the dinner finally ends. He decides to use the restroom before he leaves where he passes by the waitress squatting down at another table taking their order. At this point he feels it appropriate to pat her on the head. She looks horrified. Thankfully he moves on quickly.

When we get to the door to leave I thank him for a “lovely evening” and try to make a dash for it. He is conveniently parked next to me, so we leave together. I have never been so glad to see my piece of crap car. I attempt to half hug him when he grabs me for a big bear hug where I find myself up close and personal with the morsels that fell from his mouth onto his shirt at dinner. I manage to un-wedge myself from his grip and go on my merry way. Finally.

I wouldn’t say it’s the most horrible dinner I’ve ever been to but it’s certainly not one I ever plan on repeating. I think in the future I’ll make sure that our mutual friends are around to serve as a buffer for me and the useless nut we affectionately call Colonel Dan.