Thursday, March 3, 2011

I Gave My Number to the Wrong Foreign Guy

Last weekend (same as every other) I went out to the bar with some friends. But this night was different. I had a goal. A goal to flirt with a certain (and certainly attractive) foreign guy.

Well, I did give my number to a foreign guy...but it was the wrong foreign guy. As I was planning my attack, this guy came up out of nowhere. I think his name was Kabuki (or maybe I was just craving fried rice and sushi as I half listened to the summary of his life story, told him, no I hate the Dallas Cowboys because my grandfather hated the Dallas Cowboys, and said, yes you can have my number.) Important Note: It is easy to get my phone number. I don't really care who has it. So, if you ask for my number and I give it to you -- don't be doesn't mean I'm going to answer. Just ask my mom. Hell, ask Chris Lambton. I never answer the phone. Anyway. Once I got rid of Kabuki, it was game on.

Now, let me back up for a minute. I've never actually talked to this guy. But we have mutual friends. And not just Facebook mutual friends (though we do have nearly 50 of those). We have real life mutual friends. We've had some interaction...wall posts, a brief Facebook chat, and a few likes and comments. But we've never spoken.

Correction: We had never spoken.

I spotted him (okay, so I'd had my eye on him since he walked in the door). He was standing near some of my friends. Perfect placement. As I walked toward the friends, we made eye contact. And happened. He said, "hey." We talked. It was magical!* I said hey back but kept walking. Playing hard to get, you know. (Actually, I couldn't manage to get anything else out. Another [awkward pause] moment, if you will.)

Maybe this weekend. Then before you know it, I'll be packing my bags for our move to Sweden, right? Wait, is that too fast?

*sarcasm, bitches.

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