my life is pretty effing awesome, right? WRONG. but every once in a while some really comical shiz happnes to me and well that is when i really belive that my life is one big fucking joke and everyone is in on it but me.
case and point:
i have a date tomorrow night. with a guy i met at bar, while i may have been blacked out and his name may be michael. for those of you know know the story of the a$$ hole this should be sounding vary familar.
normally, i would have ignored the phone call (like with the guy from the gym) but i did have alot of fun with a certian jewish radiologist over the weekend and he did (via twitter) ask about my little nuggets so i suspected the strange number was from him when my phone blew up on monday night. i also introduced this individual to my extensive list of favorite hung over tv shows (anything reality, ancient aliens, swamp people, monsters inside me, etc) and i thought he was calling to thank me.
i also sometimes just get really excited and answer my phone before checking the caller id and giving the appropraite amount of rings. since my life is really exciting and all of about 5 people call me on a regular basis. i’ll let you decided which one it was.
regardless i answered the phone and it was a stranger. now i give him props for actually calling me because i am sure i was one super hot mess when we met. i vaguely remember giving my phone number to an individual over a game of golden tee so we will pretend that is who this individual is.
let me just recap what i was doing in the back of the bar alone behind the golden tee. you see my phone was dead and i needed to have access to it so i could call lisa to come pick me up at the end of the night (because one of the many pluses of living with your parents at the age of 25 is having a free cab service!).
so i decided to find an outlet to plug my little cellular device in. thankfully i have learned well from momo and had my charger in my bag. while being a crazed looney i started talking to some people and ended up playing golden tee with two guys, i also remember one spilled my gimlet and this started a nerd convention between AAF and the guys about hobbits or something that i was not really interested in. but i digress.
my soon to be date mentioned that we met at the bar where golden tee resides and by process of elimination i believe it is golden tee guy. the other options are the tattoo artist who had letters on his fingers… like not just on the space between the knuckle and the hand but ALSO between the knuckle and the figure nail. no i am not a friend of tatoos and feel with the only liquid in my body being alcohol i would haven never talked to this individual. but i was quite pickled and well i got to learn a lot about the “non vanilla non plain jane’s” get their tattoos.
the other option is the man who agreed when i called myself a vanilla plain jane and proceeded to cry about it. mr. tattoo was also around at this time and agreed that i was infact a plain jane. i have text messages to account for this portion. AMF has also clued me in to the fact that my “memory” of this portion was EXTREAMLY skewed and i infact bought up the fact that i am a plain jane then polled all those around me to see if they agreeded. i remember there was also an individual with a patagonia re-tool fleece that was in the mix at this point. as i said it is all very hazy. i am waiting from a text from AAF to help me patch this nonsense up.
so to sum up this lovely recount of the fact that no matter how old i get i am still one hot mess i have a date tomorrow night with a stranger i met in a bar. OH and one more positive about golden tee. HE IS A METEOROLOGIST. rocken’! get excited for a recount of the nights events!