Once upon a time, I randomly joined one of my friends at a brew bus party. For those of you who don’t know, the brew bus is a very fun thing where you go on a brewery bar crawl aboard a bus that serves you beer whilst in transit. The party was for some guy who I had never met before’s 40th birthday. I was invited as a last minute plus one.
When I arrived, I helped to set up the signs and table decorations and prepped a few dozen people I had never met before to scream “surprise.” Then we went out onto the bus and began drinking…heavily. Upon arrival at the last bar, I had just about had enough. I found myself an area at the end of the bar and posted up…wide stanced…and ordered myself and my friend a drink. And then, to be a total accidental dickhead, I didn’t move from my location at the bar to allow anyone else an opportunity to grab something for themselves.
I was deep in conversation with my friend when I noticed someone out of the corner of my eye who was clearly trying to get to the bar.
Me: Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to totally Bogart the bar.
Stranger: Oh, that’s fine. [steps forward to order a beer, takes it and steps back, but doesn’t leave]
Me: Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to be a dickhead.
Stranger: It’s okay. I just wanted to grab a drink after a long day of work
Five minutes later, we were still chatting away about what he does for a living, whether or not we have anyone in common, and just kind of shooting the shit. I wasn’t supremely enamored with him or anything, but he was nice and personable…so I kept talking to him. We hit a lull in the conversation when he told me he should probably get back to his friends… and I agreed that I needed to do the same…since mine (the one person I knew) had now left me for the other end of the bar. Then he walked away.
For about 2 minutes
He came back over and started up as though he had never finished “I should go back to my friends—” with this:
Stranger: –or maybe we could hang out sometime?
Me: Yes. I’d like to do that. [yes, I did say it that formally] I’m Debbie, by the way.
Stranger: Good. I’m The Owl [no, he didn’t create his own nickname, but you know me…]
Me: Nice to meet you, officially.
Then I gave him my number and told him NOT to call or text me “so that I have his number, too” because (1) I’m kind of a dick, and (2) I was probably too drunk and wouldn’t remember anyway, so if he had put the ball in my court, I would have dropped it entirely.
He went back to his friends, I went back to mine. When our brewery crawl left, I didn’t see him, but I was too drunk to worry about it. The next day I received a text. We texted back and forth about nothing when he finally asked me if I wanted to grab a drink with him that weekend. I wanted to, but I was going to Atlanta for a kickball tournament… so I suggested the next weekend. He wanted to, but he was going to be in New Jersey visiting family. He suggested the weekend after that. I wanted to, but I was going to Arizona to visit my family.
Next time, on The Owl Story: We did end up making plans. The Monday before I went to Arizona. We grabbed a drink. A drink that ended up with me spewing word-vomit all over the place.