It was bound to happen sooner or later, and I guess “sooner” won the battle. I have been on a lot of one-hit-wonderless dates, but Los Angeles is big, so running into these guys again falls into the slim to none category. However, on Saturday night, I could run no more.
A few months ago when this date took place, during our chat he had asked where I tended bar and then said he would be attending a friend’s wedding there in the spring, to which I joked I would probably be the bartender. Well, the joke was an uncomfortable reality.
On Saturday night, while I was mixing and pouring drinks and going about my business, I looked up and spotted a familiar face. Then it hit me, “Oh shit. I’ve been out with that guy.” And instantly remembered his name (that’s a big deal for me), who he was (date number two of that double date day), and him saying he’d be attending a wedding here.
The date wasn’t incredibly horrible, but I only saw it going as far as friendship level, whereas I think he was more eager. It was one of those situations where he looked okay in his pictures and the real live thing was a big let down. And now, his hair had grown out to an unflattering length and he looked twiggier and scrawnier than I remember. This is the man who wants to be a woman’s swimsuit/lingerie fashion designer. I foresee creeped-out models in his future. But I digress…
After our date, he had wanted to see me again. I usually give the guy a second go if they weren’t totally horrible. When he said next week, I said Saturday worked for me. The week went on and when he called he said he meant during the week. And I said, “Oh.” How else was I supposed to react? At that point it was Thursday, Saturday is what I had free. Duh. Anyway, he seemed thrown by that and I never heard from him again. Flash forward to Saturday night.
The area where cocktail hour was held is spacious and he could have sat anywhere, but he chose a high-top right near the bar. He was angled facing the bar so I couldn’t help but see his mug nearly every time I looked up. I was prepared to be friendly, ask him how he was, all the basics. But as the cocktail hour winded down, I never had to. He isn’t much of a drinker, so he never left his seat to come to the open bar where two female bartenders were working. I mean come on guys, what single straight dateless man attends an open bar wedding with two women behind the bar and doesn’t approach? We’re cute, even gay men adore us.
After cocktail hour ended, the party moved into the main dining room. Usually we just stay behind the main bar and people come back to us. This couple arranged to have a satellite bar in with the guests. And of course, I was the chosen one to be in the room with them. When I got to my bar, most of the guests had already taken their seats. I looked up and then, SMACK! He was right in front of me – again. Great, now I have to go through the whole reception with him obviously trying to ignore me.
I had figured he had seen me and it clicked who I was. I also figured at some point, out of common courtesy, he would just come over and say hello. But no, this guy was total junior high school. Although his chair was facing me the whole night, he avoided all eye contact. Small beans, right? What really made me chuckle was when he left the table to, I’m assuming, go to the restroom. There was a clear path from the entrance of the dining room to his table, which again, was right in front of the bar. Upon his return, I noticed him walk right onto the dance floor, bob and weave through filled tables with seated guest, and slowly make his way back to his table, where he sat down with his head cocked in a different direction from his seat. I’m amazed his ass found the chair. For his second bathroom run, I’m guessing he saw the challenges from his first return and opted to the easier path to his table. However, once he got to the table, rather than loop around facing the others, he turned backwards, body rubbed the pillar, and put his ass to the table. Classy.
You tell me. Did he see me?
New Year's Date Countdown 