Wing Man

Okay. So there's a woman, a co-worker in my department that was celebrating her birthday at a club in the city. Me and my buddy arrive there very late..somewhere in the neighborhood of 1AM. It wasn't intentional. We just had some business to attend to. So anyway, we get there and try to play the background. We've never been here before, so I'm trying to take it all in. I spot a girl that I'm definitely going to ask to dance. She's on the dance floor. She's moving. She's cute. She's turning to face me and WAIT. My co-worker walked RIGHT up on me. *Homer Simpson voice* Doh! She's in my face. She's sweaty. And she's obviously had about 3 drinks too many. I'm not a rude person. I wish her a happy birthday. I hug her. She says to me, "Let's dance." I oblige. We're dancing. I look for my buddy but I don't see him. Damn. No out. I have to see this one through to the end. Oh wait. I see him. He has drink in his hand. Double damn. He's not looking this way. He doesn't see me. But wait a sec. He has a smirk on his face. He did see me. He's getting a kick out of this. Bastard. My "GO TO" guy decided to go to the other side of the dance floor and leave me to the lion.

So…after 3 or 4 songs, she decides to take a break...or did she get distracted?....I don't recall. It's not really detrimental to the rest of this story. I break. Head for the exit. Straight for the bar. My buddy follows behind me...laughing. I counter his laughter with a straight middle finger…grinning. I would have done the same thing. Usually, the two of us have a system to signal one another. But the system was rendered ineffective because I was blindsided by the enemy. (Please note: Inebriated Overly Aggressive women are the enemy. I don't care what anybody says. I don't have the training, know-how or the energy to handle them. LOL.)

This is basically how the night goes…I have to dance with other female co-workers all night while HE gets to have himself a ball with the remaining women in the club…just dancing the night away and charming the ladies simultaneously. And for the first time ever, I'm the designated wing man for the night.

Fast forward a bit and now we're coming to the end of the night. I managed to dance with two women whom I didn't know. So the night wasn't that bad after al- shit. Here she comes again…even drunker. Asking me to dance again. So we're dancing - again. Much like the last time, but there's a difference. This time, her alcohol content has allowed her to tell me how she feels. She starts off by thanking me for coming out. I tell her there was no need to thank me. She tells me that he and her husband are separated. I'm telling her, "Oh really?" but I'm telling myself, "Oh shit. Here it comes". And like a true Psychic Friends moment, it does come.

"You know I'm attracted to you right?" she asks“.

“No, I didn't," I reply. "I don't care," is what I'm thinking.

As if that wasn't enough, my friend had taken a seat off to my right so he wouldn't get asked to dance. Yes, guys do that too. So while I'm contemplating if I should gnaw my arm off and leave it behind, a very attractive female comes over to my pal and takes his hand and brings him out to the dance floor. What the?? I'm really hating him right now. So much so, I'm waiting for him to look over at me, gloating, so I can give him his second middle finger of the night. And I do. She is working him, though. Lucky son of a - but back to my hell. She's asking me what he and I are doing later. I'm not one to take advantage of a situation like this so I tell her that he has to hit the road after we leave here (a lie). She tells me, "Oh well". I look over at him to give him a "You have NO idea" look and I see him standing there like he's waiting for something. I'm puzzled. I'm watching. I'm wondering. I'm dumbfounded!!! Would you believe that the woman he was dancing with went and got one of her girlfriends to dance with him????? At this point, I'm trying to remove my middle finger and throw it at him. He has the exact same look on his face as Michael Jordan did when he hit all those three pointers in a row against the Portland Trailblazers - like, "I dunno how I'm doing it". My head is about explode like a cartoon character that's blown his top. I can't take it. I won't take it! *Flick* The lights come on. YESSSSSS! She stopped dancing and now the effects of the alcohol have her feeling bolder. She tells me that it's my loss for having to leave afterwards. Then she asks for a kiss. I'm a gentleman, regardless, so I kiss her on the cheek. She tries to be slick and move her face to catch me on the lips but she's too drunk and her coordination is off so she misses. *whew*

That following Monday, she emails me from a training class in another building. She thanks me again and tells me that people are telling her all these stories of how she was behaving. She claims she doesn't remember anything. (I would have believed her if it wasn't for the fact that she went over to my friend, while I was elsewhere and verified that he did in fact have to leave after we left the club). She asked me if she did anything crazy. I simply told her…Nope.

I used to go the gym at college

I used to go to the gym at college. It was a nice gym. I didn't really know what I was doing. But I liked going. There was a girl there. I mean, really there were a lot of girls there. But there was this one in particular that I had spotted. I'd seen her around campus but not as much as I had seen her at the gym. She seemed serious, like "I'm here to get my workout on" serious. I wasn't as serious. I didn't really know what I was doing. She seemed like she did, because she was in great physical shape. I mean as far as I could tell, she was. I didn't really know what I was doing. Don't get me wrong, I was in great physical shape too. I was just a little light in the weight department. That's why I went to the gym.

Back to her. She had pretty eyes. Very sincere eyes. Very trusting eyes. Light colored eyes. Nice eyelashes on the top and bottom of those eyes. Very enticing eyes. Surrounding those pretty, sincere, trusting, light, enticing eyes was a sizeable head. And holding up that head was a very thin and slender body which is the reason why her head seemed larger than it should be. She was light in the all of the body parts departments. But inside of that body, I figured was a good soul. She seemed like good people. Now how do I find out?

Mondays passed. Tuesdays passed. Thursdays passed. I know what you're thinking...Monday, Tuesday, Thursday? What kind of schedule is that?? Well, remember earlier when I started telling this tale? I said I didn't know what I was doing? See? Told you.

So several days had passed and all I could muster up was mouthing the word "hey". Half of those hey's were inaudible. Did I mention that I was a shy dude? Well I was. Some women found it cute. Not me. Not ever. Not once.

Fate eventually had pity on me and had us arrive at the same machine at the same time. Finally. We took turns. We talked. She introduced herself first because I didn't know any better. I was shy and slow on the draw too. For the purpose of keeping her anonymous, I'm going to call her Born. (Author's note: Please don't dwell on the name. It's a code. One only myself and another can decipher).

Born was in fact, good peoples. Very smart. Very funny. Very down to earth. We spent time together. Not too much though. We still met at the gym. We met up as a group once and went to a club. We got a bite to eat a couple of times. That's it, I think. Oh yeah, we talked on the phone sometimes too.

A few weeks after we met, I found myself in a bind. I had to move out of my apartment and find somewhere else to reside. Luckily, last minute a good friend of mines gave word that his roommate was moving out and that he'd need someone to move in. Bet. Now, all I needed was some help to move and pack. Born volunteered as did my buddy along with a female acquaintance (that's another blog) of mines. Short story made even shorter. The move went well. Had to put my stuff in storage because dude I was replacing hadn't moved his stuff out yet. So for now, I was crashing on my futon in the living room.

Born was cool people. (Yes, I'm repeating myself.) Here it was that she didn't know me that well, but she was down to help me pack. Here it was that she didn't know me that well and she came by one night and lamped with me in my living room. Cool people.

Up until this point, nothing happened between us. Maybe some flirting. Maybe some "I'm interested in what you look like nude" looks. Maybe from her. Maybe from me. We were so casual and I was so not aggressive that when "it" happened, I didn't see it coming. She probably did though. I think women plan almost everything (I really do). While we sit there and pat ourselves on the back for a well executed game plan (we do), you all sit there silently and modestly knowing that it wouldn't happen if not for your green lights.

So everything is good between us. In an attempt to keep everything G-rated, I'll just say we had a nice night. We both enjoyed ourselves. Nothing awkward. Early stages of courtship, I suppose.

Maybe the weekend afterwards or the weekend following...don't remember...it was a long time ago. Me and my boys make a plan to go out. We get dressed up and hit up this monthly event that's held at a different location in the city. Around 2:30 in the morning, I get a call on my cell phone. It's Born. I answer it.

"Hello" I say.

"Hey, it's me" she replies. She asks me what I'm doing. I tell her. She tells me that she wants to see me and asks when I'll be done. Not having a definite course of action planned with my cohorts, I tell her "I'm not sure. We'll probably get something to eat once we leave here". Not satisfied with that response, she reminds me that she wants to see me. I tell her that I understand but I'm still at this party. Feeling like maybe I was brushing her off, I ask her if she is okay. "I'm fine. I just want to [insert expletive]! So what's up?"

Whoa. I didn't see that coming either. For about 2 seconds, I was at a loss for words. I offered to call her as soon as I was done. She responded with a "whatever" and a muffled click (That's how cell phones sound when you're hung up on.). So there I am, surprised with a look that falls in between puzzled and amused. I tell my crew. Everyone is having a good laugh at my expense as soon as we all realize that we can't make any sense of what just transpired. My final thought on it all was that she was trippin'. Hey, we all trip, right? Right. But the problem here was that she was tripping way too early into this thing here...this thing that we had...this early development. Whatever. I decide to give her some space. I didn't trip back. I just let her cool off.

A few days pass and she did what so many females do. She tested me.

For the record, I fail these tests on purpose. Some guys know when they're being tested. I won't go as far as to say that I always know when I'm being tested, but I have a good track record. One that I'm proud of, I might add. So here was the test. She tells me that someone she was seeing before me has contacted her saying that he's changed and wants them to try again and she doesn't know what to do. My response to her was that I understood if she wanted to get back with him.

Well. That's not what she wanted to hear because she apologizes to me a few days later for how she "treated" me and ends up buying me about 5 pairs of pants from a men's clothing store. Huh? It was cuh-razy. All in my size. All my style. 5 pairs. Full price. Causal pants. Athletic pants. Nice pants. Too many pants. I asked her...several times...why she did it. She kept saying that she wanted to do something nice for me. I told her that as touched as I was by the gesture, I couldn't accept something like that. She wouldn't take no for an answer. I wouldn't take the pants. It was like a tug-o-war. Nobody was winning. Nobody was losing. This went on for a few minutes. Getting frustrated, I made a deal with her and told her I'd take one pair. Reluctantly, she accepted.

So there we are, her put off and worried that I know what she tried to do...and me, a little disappointed in what's happened in the last 2 weeks and concerned that she might be a little off. I know, I know. You might be saying that it wasn't that serious. And that she just really liked me. Yada, yada, yada. But 5 pairs of pants?? C'mon. Where were the shirts??? LOL. Sike. But seriously though...how about an outfit or something? Who buys someone 5 halves of an ensemble? Who?

Ending a very long story, she ended up transferring to another school. She said she wanted to be closer to her brother and family. I don't really think that was the whole story but then again I didn't really know what I was doing.