Last night myself and two of my girls decided to go out and get a drink and chat at the bar. We were envisioning a chill night since the bar is mostly empty on Thursdays (although Thursday is quickly becoming the new Friday), but sadly for me that is not what we walked into.
The senior class had been having a party earlier at the Log, the old campus pub type place, and when that ended they all virtually stormed the local bar. And let me tell you--they were c.r.u.n.k. Like for realsies.
So the girls and I walk in and immediately I'm bored. (I tend to get bored and distracted very easily in party-type situations, especially when I'm not with L.). The girls I went with are newly developing friends--we'll call them Dentist Girl and Hockey Girl (the first is going to dental school and the second plays ice hockey, for duh)--but they're mostly better friends with C. than me, and so basically a quiet night sipping drinks at a table would have been much better for our developing friendships (which I'm super excited about ladies, if you're reading!) than a noisy crowded bar.
Dentist Girl immediately got swept up in the crowd (she's probably the BEST crowd-worker/flirt ever, period) and so Hockey Girl and I started talking with a couple of her senior athlete friends. Then I got bumped into, hard, by a big guy I immediately recognized--creepily, because we'd never met. No, I'm not a total creeper-- I used to be Sports Editor for our college paper, the Record, and this guy was a big.deal in football. Think about if you watch or follow a college sport--let's say football--and think about the guy who's the biggest deal on that team--let's say Colt McCoy of the Longhorns. Well, this guy was basically the Colt McCoy of Williams. (I hope he never reads this. This is giving him way too much credit.) Except he's not a quarterback--he's basically the best Wide Receiver that we've had in a long, long time and holds a gajillion records.
(L., this is all descriptive exposition, you understand. I'm not impressed.)
So anyways, Williams Colt McCoy bumps into me, and apologizes, and says "Hey, I'm 'Colt.'" (Yup. This is what happens when I protect identities, people. And to the real Colt McCoy, I don't think this is technically stealing yours, but if it is, sorry.) "Hi, I'm Michelle," I answer. And then add, "Youre Colt McCoy, right?"
"Yes!" he says, and then processes the fact that I'm probably a creepy stalker who has committed the entire football roster to heart. (Most certainly have not. What a bunch of jerks. [Mostly]) "Oh," says I, in my charming way, "I used to be Sports Editor, so I recognize you."
Phew. Not a creep.
Anyways. We get to talking, which is probably my first mistake. Here's my take on it: I'm at the bar. My friends are talking to other people. My boyfriend is not there. If a guy starts chatting me up, yeah, I guess most likely he's just trying to get some. But I'm starved for conversation here, guys! If you start talking to me, I'm gonna be my usual, charming, and flirty (it's not on purpose! I'm flirty by nature!) self. And then you're probably gonna think I want your shit, but I just like talking! So sue me.
Anyways. So we start chatting, find out our hometowns are super close, and I ask him is he sad football's over, blah blah, and he mentions he's talking golf lessons at the same place I took golf lessons (with Drew! Remember this post?) So I tell him all about Drew, and he admits he's never hit a real club before but is mean with a mini-golf putter.
Well this, I just cannot do. Let me get something straight here. I am the preEMINENT mini-golf player in our regional area. I have mini-golfed all up and down the New Hampshire coast, and everywhere in the middle. I am the BEST. But apparently Williams Colt McCoy thinks he's the best, too. Playful competitive banter ensues, and he mourns the fact that there's no mini-golf course close to Williams. But there is, I protest, about 20 minutes away.
Well, this just makes his whole night. "Is there ice cream?!" Um, for duh. "Cookies and cream?" he asks suspiciously. "I am sure the chances are high," I assure him.
This is when he commits his classic error.
"Well, perhaps I'll just have to take you out for mini-golf and ice cream, and we can settle once and for all who really is the best," he says.
Why does this always happen? I NEVER know when to play the boyfriend card. Some girls would have done it the second the guy bumped into me: *Bump* "OMG I have a boyfriend!" Which is just totally obnoxious. Some girls would have effortlessly worked it into the conversation: "Well, my boyfriend and I love to mini-golf," but that just also seems obnoxious to me and besides, there is never a really organic moment to slip that in; it's always forced and awkward. And I hate awkward situations. Remember when this happened to me on my birthday? I had to bring it up after the guy asked me back to his room, which was mortifying. Oh, and remember how he was also a Williams wide receiver? What is it with these guys?
So, I didn't answer. (Sneaky, no?) I just continued the taunts about mini-golf, while simultaneously trying to figure out how to sneak away and leave the whole awkward situation to die slowly in its little awkward hole. Plus, then I got the ego boost of knowing I was hot stuff and maintained mystery. Score for me.
And somehow, the universe played along with my coy little plan. Some girl came up to Williams Colt McCoy and clearly he was also involved in some other weird situation, cause here's how that went:
Girl: "Hey Colt McCoy, I'll see you in class on Monday, I'm gonna go."
CMcC: "You're leaving?"
Girl: "Yeah, I'll see you Monday."
CMcC: "You're not going to the bonfire?"
Girl: "No." (turns to me) "Why don't you go to the bonfire?" (presumably with CMcC)
Me: "Oh, uh, no, I'm not going to the bonfire."
CMcC (to me): "Will you excuse us?"
I slipped away. Clearly the bonfire was a bfd. I'm pretty sure these two weren't dating, since why would she be waiting to see him till class on Monday?, but if they were, I'm not sure if I think CMcC is a huge skeeze for hitting on me while she was in the same room, or impressed with his boldness.
Also, props to him for asking me on an actual date, unlike his birthday predecessor, who merely asked me to his dorm room.
A similar situation happened the weekend before spring break, with a super nice senior Biology major, who not only knew I had a boyfriend from the start, but bought me a drink anyway and sat and talked to me for an hour and a half. Aka, treated me like an actual, interesting human being. Granted, later I found out through friends that he quote "really wanted to make out with me," but he was a gentleman nonetheless.
The moral of the story? L. has gotta start coming to the bar because this is exhausting.