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.