This Fish Needs A Bicycle

anne who is so lovely

Three girls walk into a bar and the bartender says,

Well, actually, the bartender didn’t say a thing. But it seemed everyone else at the Doc Watson’s last night had come prepared with their contribution for what amounted to one bizarre and tremendously amusing night out.

A drunk couple, alternatively step-dancing and making out, Jen’s stunning tambourine skills, Kate’s “I thought she was a man!” and a bar full of love-hungry Irishmen. Add a bit of whiskey (paid for by the lovely gents at the bar), wind us up and watch us go.

I can’t tell you which of Jen’s two love-hungry suitors I preferred. They both had us laughing into our diner food at 2AM as we tried to piece together our soggy evening. First, there was the young, broody fellow who grabbed violently his crotch in our direction and babbled about his Chakra, and then the older fellow who became so incapacitated by love at first sight that he could only say, “so lovely” and stroke Jen’s long hair. And call her Anne.

By the time the crotch grabbing took place, I’d already had several Jack n’ Cokes (and a shot) and I was feeling brave. So, I told Chakra Boy he was obnoxious, sauntered up to the band (who’d kindly dedicated Hit Me Baby to yours truly) and asked them to “get rid of him.” With him out of the way, Hair Stroker felt much more confident and made his move. I, however, missed most of his wooing action, as I’d found my own unlikely suitor up at the bar.

Too old (38), too gruff and too… well, we were immediately caught up in a conversation that required the constant lift of one eyebrow.

“I’m not really boyfriend material,” he said in his thick Londoner’s accent. “I’m more like, booty-call material.”
“Of course you are.”
“What’s that to mean?”
“Why buy the cow.”

I was coy. He was snide. And within fifteen minutes, he was asking for an email address.

“I suppose it wouldn’t do at all to tell you that you’re charming.”
“Not after that booty call speech.”
“But I absolutely adore you from the tips of your pink toes to the tip of your brown pony tail.”

I gave him the email address.

Posted by This Fish at September 9, 2004 11:57 AM