Let’s go G.N.O.

I went out with a good friend the other night. We went to a local bar/restaurant owned by a friend. We sidled up to the bar and began our Friday night regimen of Hot Toddies and beer. Mmmm, yum. My friend is married so she doesn’t have the same “on the prowl” instinct as I do. Not that I’m actively looking, but it is always fun to “scope” out the possibilities. I was really not in the mood for prowling on this particular evening and the population of the bar was not at all conducive to such antics. The patrons at the bar consisted of the two of us, another male friend of ours, a female friend who was on a date, some random folks, and the owner and employees.

It’s true what they say – things happen when you least expect them. By the end of the evening I‘d had my fill of unexpected, flirtatious interactions. For beginners, the chef (who was mildly attractive – and humorous) came out of the kitchen, began to chit chat with me and suddenly blurted out, “Ok, so when you woman have babies I know your bladders get kinda weak…what type of thing makes you lose control?” WTF? Are you serious? M’kay…I was a bit Hot Toddied and beered-up so I replied, “Well, I had bladder surgery and frankly, I don’t lose control when I laugh, sneeze, or cough…nope…I just lose control when I am walking home in the cold, after an evening of partaking in the drink and I get startled or frightened (usually because I think some stranger’s vehicle is stalking me).” Wrong thing to say…he was enamored with me from then on. How can you blame him? He planted himself behind the bar and right in front of me the rest of the evening. Heh!

My girlfriend then decides to stir it up a bit and suggests that I “have a go-around” (read: rebound sex) with our male friend (whom I’ve had relations with in the past – the long, long ago past). I tell her that I really don’t think it’s a good idea. He must have overheard some of our conversation because he starts in with the reminiscing. He begins to talk about how we met, how much fun we had, our drunken, midnight skinny dips. And on that note I decided it was time for me to exit before I got into trouble.

As we get up to leave I walk over to say goodnight to my female friend who is on a date with an elderly, gentleman artist. As I approach her, her date (who I have never met) grabs me by the arm and says “You are so beautiful you could do anything you want.” Excuse me? WTF? Now I’m getting frightened (and hoping it’s not cold enough in the bar for me to pee my pants). The poor girl. I look at her apologetically and she responds with an indifferent gaze. I give her a quick hug and escape without any further man handling.

It looks like my Village People collection is amassing quite quickly. First, it was the policeman (who, by the way, has still not contacted me), then the snow plow guy and now the chef, a friend (he used to be in the service – so let’s just say he’s the sailor), and an artist. Alas, not really what I had in mind. Where the fuck is my cowboy?

 

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