Why I Go Out on Tuesdays

What would a pirate do in this situation? Afternoon Girl knows more about nature than I expected. We took a walk around the reservation (thanks for the idea, X.) and she began pointing out different plants. There was the pine needly looking shrub that could be made into a tea; some other plant that she pointed out was edible and then demonstrated that it was by munching on it, after which she said “or maybe it’s poisonous…” She’s also an expert frog catcher and, because of her hippy education she pointed out, she could also cut down a tree and make hammers out of the fallen tree. Yes, hammers. She can also whittle and make dolls and wreathes out of pine cones. I pointed out that she’s just a few years short of spending her weekends in church halls, selling all of her crafts. But, at any rate, it was a lovely walk on a beautiful afternoon.

If that weren’t enough, as I was driving her home, we took another walk at a park near her home. We found a bridge–one of those ‘walk out into the middle of the wetland’ type bridges–but it had a big blockade with the words: Bridge Closed–Danger. Being the badasses that we are, we ignored the sign, wondering whether or not the danger was due to rotting wood or maybe a Blair Witch type of thing. It turns out that a couple of people with their dogs were badasses too as we met them headed back the other direction. We complimented each other on our badassedness, petted the dogs and kept walking– figuring, hey, the bridge must be safe. That only leaves the Blair Witch scenario. Cool. We took a short stroll down a dead end that was slightly askew, but structurally sound. We hung out awhile, talked about pirate sex, and listened to the frogs croaking away.

How many drinks HAVE you had? The Jilted One was back behind the bar after a long layoff. I guess she wasn’t able to work last week because she was mourning her relationship. It didn’t stop her from being in the bar everyday, though. Go figure. Oh, and Tuesday night she reminded everyone that she’s a pretty crappy bartender; but what can ya do? On the whole, I can’t complain. I got two or three free beers from her.

One of the classic moments of all time happened within minutes of my arrival. JetBlue was there with Crazy Artist Guy, having one of their inane conversations. I sat a few seats down, because I still want no part of that shite. Anyway, her “#1 man” (as I’ve called him before) showed up and sat next to me–so JetBlue had the three of us lined up, like long delayed flights in an endless take-off queue. I noticed that “#1 man’ has taken to the same mocking jokes that most people have taken to when talking to her. Kinda funny, if you ask me.

Later in the evening she foolishly left her keys on the bar while she went to the jukebox. So I suggested to D. that he move her car, just to mess with her. The Jilted One agreed that it would be funny, but, to be honest, I was surprised that he actually did it. It went off perfectly though. At first she thought it was stolen but we kept suggesting that she had a bit too much to drink and maybe she didn’t remember where she parked it. When she eventually found it–hey, it was in the parking lot–she then assumed that D.R., who had been there earlier, had somehow pushed it–which was perfect: “Oh, sure. Blame the Puerto Rican guy!” Oh yeah!

I really don’t know, but let’s see what happens: K2 arrived. We had a cigarette outside with M. and she made a point of re-introducing herself, reminding me of the last time we talked (you know, when I impulsively asked her out and she shot me down). Later, she was talking up some Irish history with Dr. B. and me. Well, mostly how if you say that you’re Irish you’re actually saying that you’re descended from one of the many different races who fucked the Irish. Speaking of K2, she has the most unique eyes. They’re haunting, almost eerie. Like JB and Afternoon Girl, I believe her eyes reflect her soul–in her case, mysterious, perhaps troubled. Well, anyway, Dr. B, as always, managed to kill the conversation–ass–but as she was heading away, she touched my arm and said, “I’ll be back later.” That was unexpected. And, unfortunately, I was headed out myself so I didn’t get to find out if she meant it.

Jealousy?: So, one thing I didn’t mention about the past two nights (well, three nights now) is that I’ve been mad texting with Afternoon Girl. It was funny Tuesday, because after JetBlue’s #1 man left, she began texting on and off–I assume with him and gawd knows who else. For a while I was pretty much going non-stop. R. asked us if we were texting each other and I said “No, she doesn’t return my messages.” Meanwhile, at one point she closed her phone and said “Men suck.” D. asked her what she was talking about and she pretended not to be reacting to the message, but she didn’t text any more after that. D. then asked her: “How many boyfriends you got? Like three or something” And then he turned to me and said: “Are you one of them?” And I said “Nooooo” perhaps a little too emphatically. At any rate, after her text barrage ended she came over to my seat and tried to read what I was typing. I hid it, even though it wasn’t anything that needed to be hidden, and said “Nothing for you to worry about.” Oh yeah. And then, when she was leaving (just before she discovered her car missing) she jokingly said to me “No more texting, mister.” Well, jokingly, or jealously. Maybe both.

And, finally, “Why I Go Out on Wednesdays“: Okay, so we had a committee meeting last night. It was fairly brief so D. and I stopped down to the bar, just because that’s what we do. Well, it was a slow night, or at least a tired night–there were plenty of friends there. D. got to retell the “stolen car” story and he got to show-off his new “heelies.” Yes, the man bought himself heelies. And while most people humored him or, at least, ignored him, the most heard comment was: (and you can use your ‘Jim’ from “The Office” intonation here) “I did not know they made those in adult sizes.”

And then JetBlue came in, apparently on a date. Okay, if you hang out somewhere four or five nights a week, would you bring a date there? Dates are such a perfect opportunity to do something different with your life! Well, D. and I talked about her and made jokes from a distance (and yeah, I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a little jealousy lurking in my heart). But, you know, as I’ve been writing this paragraph I realized why she probably brought him there–to show all of us that she was dating someone! To show off to us; that has got to be it. After D.’s ribbing her the night before about her text woes and her “boyfriends,” she just had to save face. Why else would she do it? From personal experience I know that she will wander from the bar and likes good food. But, anyway, as it turned out,  she was the least of my evening.

Okay, through all this I was setting up a potential date for Friday night with Afternoon Girl. I was reading the movie listings, asking people what good films were out there (I really am clueless when it comes to movies), texting possibilities to her. It was fun. I’ll let you know if we actually do work our schedules to make it happen.

You Shall Know Her By The Trail of Destruction in Her Wake: So, that’s cool. But, wait, the evening wasn’t quite over. D. and I headed down to another bar, walked in and, holy crap, K2 was there. She looked at us–I swear at me–and said: “Did you come looking for me?” Hell, if I knew she was there I would’ve had D.’s ass down there a lot earlier. Anyway, we were hanging out and D. was doing his usual obnoxious grabbiness with her. I’ve told you before, D. thinks highly of himself and he’s, well, pretty classless at times. But that’s just D. being D.. Anyway, at one point, K2 looked at me and said: “You know, D. and I hooked up once. That’s why he’s being like this. I just wanted to let you know.” I was thinking there might be a couple of messages there, but, hey, who knows.

Then D. decided to leave and K2 said she was going to yet another different bar. I said “Okay” and then she said “Are you coming over too?” Sweet! Of course, I had just run out of money, so I shot over to the ATM before heading over. When I got there she was nowhere to be found and, though I was curious about what her plan was, I figured I’d have a quick drink and get home. As I was about to sit down, the bartender came over and said “Were you supposed to meet a woman here? She told me to tell you she went to E’s.” Oh, man.

But wait, it gets better. I shoot up to the bar and there she is talking to two guys. I order a beer. She says a word or two to me, but keeps on talking to them. Then, she finishes her drink quick, says to me “These guys are drunk and I’m not. I have to give them a ride home.” Then she gave me a hug, said she’d talk to me later and left with them. Brilliant!

But wait, it’s not over. I went outside a few minutes later on my way out and the owner of the bar and a couple of guys are out there talking about how K2 had dinged one of their cars as she pulled out of the parking lot. That’s a designated driver for you. Now that is fucking brilliant! I’m glad I got to play a role in that story.


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