Tales From Tuesday Night

I went out last night for pint night.  Standard operation.  I drink vodka tonics.  Standard operation.  Drama ensued.  Standard operation.

Yesterday morning I was galavanting around campus getting my last few items on the list set up for when I leave this hell hole, when I walk in a building and see HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON standing at the coke machine.  I internally flip my shit, if I turn around and walk out he’ll know it’s because of him, if I walk up and say hi that could be weird since he hates my drunk guts, what do I do what do I do? Ok I’ll just rummage through my bag and pretend like I don’t see him.

I think I’m in the clear when I feel a tug on my arm and hear him say, “Hey Gizzy!” Ok, deep breaths, in and out, in and out.

Me: Ohhhh heyyyyy!! How have you been?

HOTTIE: Pretty good, you?

Me: Good good, whatcha been up to? (Other than not returning my texts, asshole.)

HOTTIE: Oh just school trying to pass this summer class,  you know how it goes.

Me: Yeah me too, same old stuff.

*awkward silence for 10 seconds, but felt like 10 years*

HOTTIE: Well, it was good to see you.

Me: Yeah you too, bye!

So after I text my psychiatry group (Lucky, Mercedes, and Gigi) I get mixed feelings about the convo. Gigi always the optimist tells me I have to let this one go because it’s not going to happen and I am a loser and should go for guys my own age anyway.  Lucky and Mercedes tell me it’s a good sign that he chased me down to say hello.  I like the latter of those two conclusions, which brings me to later that night.

Gigi, acts gay but says he’s straight friend Adam, Chuck, Chuck’s friend LB, our new friend Bri and I are all taking shooters at Gigi’s place before going out.  I’m moping about how I should just kill myself because I’ll never find anyone who is hot and doesn’t cheat on me while everyone else is having a gay old time.  We walk to the bars and this convo happens:

Me: Gigi, HOTTIE’s lights are on, should I text him?

Gigi: YEAH! Tell him to come out.

Bri: Who are you talking about?

Me: This guy I like, but he hates me because I’m a drunk, he lives right there.

Bri: Are you talking about HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON?

Me: Um, yes.

Bri: You told me about him but never told me his name.  He is best friends with my roommates boyfriend and over at my place all the time with them, I’ll hook a sista up.

Then, I tell her about the elevator incident and she thinks it’s not a big deal and tells me that he is very shy and in the 3 years that she has known him not once has she seen him with a girl or ever heard him speak of a girl.  I take this as good news and buy Bri and I some shots.

As the night wears on we decide to scheme a plan to get HOTTIE and I together tonight.  Bri is going to text him and beg him to come out with her and her new friends (insert Gizzy) then we’re all going to pre-drink at Bri’s place and HOTTIE and I will fall madly in love and get back on course making our enginerd clan.

I really like this plan and I hope it works.  Since Bri has been so generous to me and my love life I felt it was my duty to wingwoman for her for the rest of the night.  She found a guy she thought was hot so I was stuck talking to his douchey friend, Rob Thomas (yes, like from matchbox 20, I made him show me his ID.) Rob Thomas is one of those guys who thinks he’s all that and a bag of chicken, but he ain’t.

Anytime someone would touch him he would throw his hands up and say, “HEY! Hands off the merchandise.” He also would not stop bragging about how he went to Penn State and that he was 28. See, this is why I don’t date older guys.  The younglings have nothing to brag about other than their sexual escapades and how much ever clear they drank the night before, they’re just a bundle of fun.

Being a good wingwoman and not wanting to vagina block Bri I give Rob Thomas my number and agree to hang out as a group again.  Big mistake.  Today I wake up to a text from him asking if Bri and I want to meet him and some friends out tonight, then he facebooks me, and as soon as I push accept he facebook chats me except he was pissed off because in my interests on facebook it says that I am interested in asians.  He jumps up my ass asking if I am USING him because he is asian.

What exactly would I be using you for, I ask Rob Thomas.  He says to fulfill some asian fantasy.  WOW.  I didn’t say I wanted to bang all of the 5 billion asians in the world.  I said I am interested in asians.  My other interests are putt-putt and boxed wine.  He can’t take that seriously, can he? Well he does.  So I proceed to tell Rob Thomas, the asian, why I am so fascinated by asians.

I mean, at least once a day I see an asian sprinting down the street with their arms full of shit and I just always wonder where do these asians have to be with their shit in such a hurry? And if I don’t see one sprinting down the street for no reason I’ll see one aimlessly wandering down the street.  It’s a win, win.

I could go on for hours about why I love asians and think they are so hilarious, but I’ll spare the feelings of those who are offended and who now think I’m racist and stop.  But, Rob Thomas does not agree that asians are funny and said he had to go.  Then, I do the greatest thing ever and look at Rob Thomas’ facebook profile picture:

And he proves my point to a T. I hope I see him out tonight.

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