Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Sticky Wicket

So, I started a kickball team this past fall. My team was made up of mostly my gal friends and a couple of people who could play when they had the time. To be perfectly honest, my kickball team was just a reason to get my friends to come out and drink with me. Every week, I would scramble to get a small and pathetic team together to hit the kickball field. This kickball league wasn’t exactly a serious league, it was sponsored by my local bar, so I didn’t really take it too seriously.

Our season was over as quickly as it started and we were successfully the loosingest team in the league. I had never been more proud of my team. The end of the year party was to be the pinnacle of the season, we were being given the toilet seat trophy. I was so excited. I just wanted to have some fun.

My pathetic posse of losers and I sat at a table hanging out. I began to get attention from the owner of the bar. I ignored it as just him being drunk. As the night went on though, he began to get more touchy and more flirty. As I drank more, the less I minded. He wasn’t exactly my type, but as long as the attention was harmless, I didn’t mind.

I did mind when my roommate after many many drinks decided that she needed to be protective of me. She cornered my poor flirty bar owner. She basically asked him his intentions. With every word that she drunkenly slurred, I cringed inside. The more attention that she brought to this matter, ie his flirting, the more real it made it. I was hoping that I could ignore, that we could just play flirty face all night, and let it go. I’m sticking to the fact that the moment that my roommate brought attention to his flirting, he saw a checkered flag and the finish line toward a date.

Ten minutes later we found ourselves alone in the middle of a crowded room. He looked at me, and casually, but seriously, asked me out for dinner. He was so cute about it, I didn’t have any idea what to say. I had been avoiding this moment all night. Every fiber in my body wanted to say NO… but out of my mouth came a hesitant and unsure…. “Sure?”

It was like I wasn’t I wasn’t in my body for that brief moment because I was looking down at myself yelling… screaming NOOOO!! What the hell had I just agreed to. This was the bar owner of the bar that I frequent more often than I would like to admit. If I screwed this up, I would be out of a bar. If I went out with him, I would not be attracted to him.

Oh crap.

I decided perhaps I should sneak out when he wasn’t looking and chalk up this entire evening to being “drunk.” I looked around the bar, I didn’t see him, good sign, I walked out. I almost walked right into him. He was standing outside having a smoke. Oh crap. There was no getting out of this now. I waved good bye and tried to slide on bye. No such luck.

He insisted upon walking me home. Now this guy is a nice guy. He is tall a bit awkward and out of my age bracket. At my front steps I said thanks and good bye. He leaned in for the kiss, oh crap, I couldn’t turn away, that constitutes major rejection, I couldn’t make out with him, so I closed lip kissed him. It was like ABC family television show. There was no tongue, just awkwardness on my part. I don’t think he realized it, because when he turned he told me that he would call me tomorrow.

What a sticky wicket I had just gotten myself into.

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