99.9 % of the time I refuse any offers of being "set-up."
It's just not my thing, it's uncomfortable, I end up talking way too fast & too much, and generally being absurdly ridiculous.
However, I have a friend, who happens to be the best friend of an ex-boyfriend, who I was with for nearly 4 years, that wanted to set me up with one of his buddies.
His rationale: he's a really nice guy, rich, and travels all over the world.
After a couple months of brushing it off, I figured why the hell not.
So Friday night we made plans for my friend to pick me up and we would go meet his buddy for dinner & drinks.
I even had rules: I had to wash my hair, not wear moccasins, and no plaid. So I fussed myself up, think skinny jeans, knee high boots, hair spray in my Shakira-esque hair, and threw on some extra make-up.
We had some road sodas on the way, which was way necessary to calm my nerves - or rather loosen me up so I was my chatter-bug self, plus some.
We arrived, met, grabbed some seats at the bar, he seemed nice, we chatted, had some drinks, and ordered burgers.
I love that I ordered an enormous cheeseburger, and the boys did too. No ensaladas here creepers, no sir.
Anyways, my first impression was that he was a bit smug and very army. By very army, I mean you legit looked at him, and you knew he was in the army. There was no question about it, ya know?
So then we proceeded to head to the Legion bar for the town.
We began playing some pool, which I'm terrible at, but I'm a pretty enthusiastic player and I enjoy myself, mostly.
There was a rogue girl sitting at one of the pub tables near the pool table, that I began chatting with. Several minutes into the conversation she started bawling.
By bawling, I mean seriously, crying. Tears down the face and all.
I began to panic, like what the hell happened here.
She ran outside to smoke a cigarette.
Phew ok.
Anyways, back to pool. A ways into playing, which I was teamed up with my friend, and we were playing 2 random guys who were already there, the set-up man teamed up with a girl at another table.
No biggie, but it was pretty clear we weren't hitting it off.
So after a while, when it became blatantly obvious that every time we spoke it turned into a discussion of the army, or him becoming very intense, or an argument that I would attempt to diffuse by being silly, I gave up.
I decided damn, that guy at the bar is smokin'. I'm gonna go chat him up.
Which I did, and he bought me a shot. And we flirted a bit.
Then on my return to my friend, a girl pulled me aside:
Heyy, um are you from around here?
Not really, like 45 minute away.
Well, I am, and just a heads up, that guy you were chatting up is on trial for manslaughter.
Oh, right, ok thanks.
Sigh, are you serious?
Anyways, so on the night progressed and the arguments continued.
Now I would never bash the army, I wouldn't. I respect it, I know my life is the way it is because they are present.
But I have zero desire to discuss the army ALL NIGHT LONG.
I also have zero desire to hear how every single country in the world is miserable and terrible and there is nothing positive about it. And that if I adopt a refugee child, it will murder me in my sleep. (I'm serious, that's what he said to me).
Because that's just fucked up.
There is something positive in everything, EVERYTHING.
So I high tailed it to the bathroom where on my way a pleasant gentleman told me I resembled Salma Hayek, which nearly made me pee my pants, because my body is like that of a 12 year old pre-adolescent boy....and in no way close to resembling Salma. But anyways, apparently I resemble a young, Only Fools Rush In, Salma or something, minus the curves.
Anyways, I got back, to find out manslaughter man and his friends were going to fight army man, like 3 versus 1 style.
I flat out told them it was the dumbest thing I ever heard and then went and threw down on the dance floor.
I mean, there were some good tunes happening.
Thankfully, someone threw a white flag and there was no after bar brawl.
Anyways, the night had clearly come to an end.
Clearly.
So me and my friend hit the road and dialed my sister up and put her on speaker phone.
She was obviously drunk as she somehow misconstrued the situation to that of my friend setting me up with a murderer. Which she was screaming at him on the phone.
It was hilarious, and a great closer to the evening.
Apparently though the set-up man felt bad the next day and thinks he came across like a douch bag (duh). And was actually interested and wants to talk to me, about things other than the army, to which I said he has to talk about unicorns and moonbeams.
So now the real question is, second chance, or no second chance and how daring do I truly feel?
