Guess It Wasn’t Time To Be Re-Released Into The Wild…

So I got a taste of them olden times.

I went out last night for one of the first times in months, literally. Not even an official going out, but simply meeting up with a best friend at a local eatery, PF Chang’s, for a hour to have a few beers, eye up a few ladies at a distance, and catch up on the mundane on-goings of the past month or so in our own lives. A fine, simple, necessary evening. And we only needed an hour to accomplish it. A few Coronas -going back to a little old school beer for the evening- and a few stories told and retold, and then that would be that.

But…our waitress happened to be a very attractive young lady. Very cute face but a body that made us not only lose track of our story every time she walked by, but whatever word we were stuck on was replaced by “boobs”. Which is infantile, but Lord, accurate. So that was nice, but again, I was more into the long distance viewing for the evening. Not quite into the mood to even try to be ‘on’ or to play my part in recognizing and establishing that she is indeed very hot. It’s not that I wasn’t really feeling it, its more like I just didn’t want to deal with effort. Not tonight. I wanted simple tonight and didn’t want to feel the discomfort, even if a good discomfort of the chemicals that surge through the body with this kind of fish in the water.

So I kept aloof. She was all smiley, doing her job or whatnot. My aloofness is never a good things when it comes to the opposite sex. It can be ‘effective’ at times in maybe taking the cop out lame-ass mystery route…giving off just a different vibe, but the best case scenario I can get from that, which has happened in the past, is that a girl will come up at the end of the night and tell me that I was this or that, but was unapproachable and left while I would be like, ‘cool’, but really? ‘Cool?’ Or was I just being a pussy? Whatever. I’m not always aloof, but it tends to be my default when I’m not clear on how or what I’m feeling. The winning move is not to play? A Wargames approach.

So I’m stand offish a bit. Polite and giving a comment or two, but definitely going the default route. Props Professor Faulken. JG (names stay anonymous) was more engaging and warmer and thus she gave more friendliness in return, but whatever, I’m mysterious, right? Shut up mind. We were here to grab a few, catch up, and head out. And again see a hot girl or two.

But then something unexpected happened. I loosened up. Wasn’t in the plans at all. I’ve been uptight lately. Tremendously uptight. Humor has been a yesteryear activity and a near future revisiting. But for some reason the rust started to break and fall off. The discomfort, even though good, begin to shift to comfort, ease, and well, drive. Pretty soon the waitress and I were finding our rhythm.

It’s nice to get in synch with one of these girls. It definitely doesn’t hurt one’s ego. And I could falsely accept that this was about me or some type of game I possessed, but in fact it had far more to do with timing. I am in the perfect place of timing or peaking or whatnot to do well in a situation like this.

I have just gotten out of a relationship, so suffice is to say that I still have the stank of girlfriend on me even though it isn’t current. That in itself leaves a small window of opportunity. You got the lack of desperation on you, plus the residual confidence that comes from being loved and given copious amounts of physical attention on a regular basis. So I had that going. So again, only partial credit I can take. And, add that with a beautiful mix of being new to the nightlife scene again.

There is something to be said for going out night after night playing a sort of numbers game to attempt to get fortunate enough to spend one’s time with a slutty lady, or better- much better- a chance encounter with a lovely lady who is in the mood for tonight, and One Night Only, to be the slutty girl before taking back her original form of said lovely lady. It’s where she belongs. It’s who she is. Sex isn’t necessary at all. Perhaps not even ideal. But a little naked what-nots….Priceless.

So the numbers game is one approach to the dating/slutting scene. Not my scene and never has been my scene. But, there is a different advantage to being the infrequent visitor to the bar scene. And what I’ve found is that it gives you the ‘New Kid In School” vibe. A sort of fresh faced, energy raised, not showing signs of slumming it night after night or week after week vibe. Not to mention a new face to those who do get out more frequently. A ‘who’s that? Haven’t seen him/her before? And aloof? Certainly mysterious? Hmm. And that’s with the default. It’s not a bad position to be in.

So I’m warming up for no reason at all. Just reacting because she is so physically ridiculous and more to the point that she’s reacting to me or my situation(s). But do I ask her for her number?

“Shh. JG, that’s not how I work”. He’s frustrated but understands me completely and is largely the same way. My point is that I can’t stand myself being bullshit. Rather, more accurately, I hate discomfort. That’s it. I hate feeling uncomfortable. Thus, if I am not already on a fun, relaxed level, then why ratchet it up several levels and make a date or future encounter to be that much more uncomfortable. It’s not high school or whatnot anymore. It’s not about seeing how far I can get. See if I can lose a digit in receiving digits and brag non-chalantly to my friends about it afterwards. Who cares at this point?

But I was warming up and things were natural and I was in control. I checked my gut with the ex and felt she was probably conflictingly making out with some Midwesterner at the moment and thus I should have some fun too. Just to get back out there a bit. Not to date, but to have a little harmless fun… And again with a girl with a body like this, my penis would pack his bags (two to be specific) and head out if I were to not try and test the waters. He asks that I put forth some effort.

So we’re winding down, asking her for her number now feels normal and inevitable, but she beats me to the punch in sorts. She asks where we are heading. She says she wants a beer. My penis begins unpacking. I ask her what time she gets off. She says 30 minutes. We plan to meet at on of the worst bars in Walnut Creek. Or rather she says she will be there, I tell her that we will meet her. We say goodbye, she wipes her bangs from her face in a slow, purposeful, flirty, totally intentional way. It’s on. JG grabs me and hugs me as friends do to celebrate, but usually do so after they are out of sight of what they are celebrating. But he’s a happy, excitable guy. It’s fine.

So there we go. I am tired actually. It’s been a long week. It’s 12:30am. I need a pick me up. So we go on a mission to get some coffee from a drive-thru to get the quick pick me up that doesn’t come in powder form and to see what will happen next. The night is already a success because there is a sense of adventure in the air and it had been forever since I had felt that. Been a very difficult year.

So we are heading back. I am totally and completely feeling in my element. We park, down the coffee, and with pure intent and ease I come to the front door of the bar.
I peer inside ready to poach my animal, scoop her up in my big butterfly net, whatever…and the bar…is totally empty. For whatever reason the bar closed an hour early. It was raining, so I guess that was their reason. And it took me a second to process it. 30 minutes earlier it was packed with a totally obnoxious-I-can’t-stand-this-shit-scene, complete with a bleached-haired 23 year old with Elvis glasses. I was only going to put Jason and I in this scene for no more than 15 minutes. Just long enough to get her wings, legs and antennae into the net.

But, just like that the night was over. I was a bit stunned. Kind of like getting ready for a prize fight. Totally and completely focused. Well trained. Gone through the fight plan. Ready. Walk into the ring. Sweat covered. Hood taking care of the periphery. Walking/bouncing into the arena. Arms on my trainer/JG. Walk in….and P-O-W it’s empty. Whaaaaaaaaaat?

So that was last night. How do I feel this morning? Strangely kind of glad that it didn’t happen. Kind of. To be honest, I miss my ex. “BOOOOOOOO!!!!” Shut up people. I do. She is such a sweet girl. Such a beautiful creature, who should/could be having her fun and ‘earmuffs’ kissing a guy or two (or more….fuck) to re-inject a little fun and make a statement that she is now ‘her’ instead of ‘us’. At least for now. So there is no sense of feeling I would have done something wrong had things followed through. But it is kind of nice to still feel somewhat chaste and respectful to our recent ‘us’ and to ‘her’ because she is such a good one. But I can’t pat myself on the back for that, being that I didn’t partake in a decision that decided the outcome or may have decided the outcome. Sure, Elvis could have swept her away. “Wa-huh.”

Regardless, I wake up empty handed, but I’m alright. Nice to have a little non-action action last night. And more importantly I didn’t let me netherregions down. I put forth the effort. It just wasn’t meant to be.

BN