I Built a Bridge to Nowhere aka Failing to Seal the Deal

Ima get a rope!

I went to WordCamp San Diego this weekend. It was a good time, needless to say. I get to be nerdy, get my learn on and hang out with some awesome, awesome folks. I was doing it right.

I got into San Diego on Friday and was looking for something to do and I decided I needed have a drink. A friend of mine, David, accompanied me and we were soon joined by another friend, Nate and his girlfriend who has a wonderful name, but I can't spell for shit and I would butcher it and that would be a shame.

So we're having some craft brews at Mission Brewery and having fun. Nate points out that this very cute girl is looking for someone to play shuffle board. At first I look at him like he's fucking crazy because the girl I thought he was eye-balling was built like a Peterbilt truck. Not my speed. He corrects me, “Not her, the cute one on the other side of her.” I crane my neck and take another look. Oh! She IS cute. This gal was there with two friends, the linebacker and some other dude. This other dude had a good chipper personality, funny; I'd hang out with this dude. He didn't appear to be with this cute girl, if my read on body language is an indicator of anything.

Green light, bitches!

I B-Line right over and introduce myself “Hey, I'm the guy that's gonna whoop your ass at Shuffle Board.” She laughs and agrees to play me.

Now, as a service to all of you, I'm not going to tell you how long this fucking game took. But I will tell you that I whooped that bitch's ass (by one point, that counts as an ass-whoopin' right?) and she bought me a beer. I won. However, we all know that's not the point.

So as we go to get my ass-kicking beer, my opponent, Stephanie, came by and says, “Hey, you should come out dancing with me and my friends later.” She asks for my number. Normally, I don't give my number out, but this is usually something that's asked for in response to me asking for a woman's number. But Steph asked me for it outright. She took my number, texted me right there. She left saying “See you later, I hope.” With a lovely smile and gorgeous eyes and an ass I could speed bag for days. Sigh… Romance, I tell you.

Fast forward an hour and a half I show up at this bar, it's pretty dead. Shots are waiting, I take one. Stephanie had changed and was wearing a dress and showing some impressive gams (I'm a leg guy over here, if you recall) and we danced briefly and the other guy was sitting there talking to the larger gal, but his eyes were on Stephanie. So something was going on there.

The girls go to the restroom and I get a chance to talk to Kevin. I ask, “Kevin, how long have you and Stephanie known each other?” He looks around and up like he has to think about it, “Uhhh, I met her this morning. I was running and we both stopped at the same place.” Come again? Yeah, so Kevin meets this girl earlier in the day on a run, and she invites him out to have some beers. At this point, I'm kinda not “into it” anymore. I could do without this… thing that was becoming weird. Who was this girl? The dude collector or what?

Stephanie and her friend, meat fist, come back out and she looks concerned. Stephanie tells us we have to get to some other bar because another friend of hers can't get into the bar we're already at, which has gotten packed since I arrived.

We take to the streets and walk a few blocks (which, in my increasingly woozy state of drunkenness I note how fast this woman in heels can move) and we finally make it to the bar to meet this friend. Said friend is a tall, dark fellow, wearing a blazer he smiles big, gives Stephanie a big hug, leaves his left hand on her lower back and they exchange pleasantries… in Spanish. Confused and impressed, I carry-on with this weird dog and pony show. We go in, we all have beers and continue talking. Kevin goes dancing by himself in front of the live band. I really have no fucking idea what's going on, I'm talking to the other female friend and she seems absolutely bored. Apparently my conversation isn't helping because she gets up, leaves, grabs Stephanie and heads for the restroom.

I go stand next to the new friend, whose name I forget. Let's call him Tim. I walk up to Tim. “Fun times, yeah?” He takes a swig of his beer, looks at me and clanks his bottle to my mug. I ask “So, you and Stephanie seem like close friends. How's that working out?” At this point, I don't really care anymore. Tim, looks at me, kinda chuckles and takes another sip of the beer. “How long have you guys known each other?” Tim sips again, nudges me on the shoulder and, again, chuckles. I don't know what any of this fucking means. Then we get on the topic of baseball and I tell him about how I'm an Angels an, and he looks at me and nods approvingly. Cool, another Halos fan, I think to myself.
Stephanie finally comes back, she walks up to Tim and I and she says “What' up?” I reply, “Oh, Tim and I here were talking baseball and how my Angels are going to do this season.” She looks at me, surprised, “You speak Spanish? Tim doesn't speak English, you know.”  I chuckle, “Pfft, don't be silly, of course he doesn't speak English. Got you!” Yeah, I didn't know that guy didn't speak any English. I'm talking to this guy like a fucking asshole for fifteen minutes. What a dope I am. Gotta get better at qualifying non-English speaking folks so that I can grunt and make hand gestures instead. Putting that on my to-do list…

Needless to say, it was a night of nothingness. What did I hope to have happen? Well, if I'm being honest here, I kinda wanted to get laid. Bad. And thought my chances were better than slim and/or none… Lesson to be learned here? In this situation I should have put on my “Game” jersey. Perhaps when I'm feeling a bit more douchey, next time.