Saturday was another one of those days where I had bottomless mimosas in the morning and then went to the zoo with more champagne in the afternoon. We followed that up with the DEBS and Celine Dion drinking games before going out to our favorite local dive bar. It was a busy day full of booze so it’s no surprise the night got a bit weird.
At the bar, I suggested we play Buck Hunter. While playing, some girl playing pool with a couple regulars came over and started chatting with me. She asked about the game and was making conversation. Intermittently, she’d go back to her pool game and I’d go back to shooting bucks. She came back right when I was yelling at Enoch to take his turn. She misinterpreted and thought I was telling her to take a turn. She stepped up, missed all the bucks and ruined Enoch’s perfect streak.
This was the first indicator that something was very off. I reported back to my friends that the girl may be on meth.
Later on, I was sitting at the bar conversing with my favorite bartender Bobby and she sat down next to me. The conversation started to get much more normal. She told me she lives in Portland and was here visiting a friend who lived a couple blocks away. I asked where her friend was and she told me he wasn’t with her.
The first time she told me we should “go for a walk,” I just pointed to my drink and told her I couldn’t leave my friends. It was my polite way of turning her down.
This didn’t deter her and conversation continued. She was an avid snowboarder and offered to teach me. She told me she was a photographer and was doing a project in the city, hence her visit.
She asked me to go on a walk again and I told her I still hadn’t finished my drink. I suppose I was actually considering leaving with her this time but still wasn’t sure.
Then the conversation took a bad turn. She asked me where I lived and I told her it wasn’t anywhere around the bar. She pointed out that the regular she had played pool with lived “only a mile away.”
As she started to fumble with her backpack, I realized how large it was. I think she legitimately had all of her things with her in this large backpack.
When I asked if she knew the regular she had played pool with, she told me she didn’t but thought he was nice. She looked over at him fondly and then said, “Maybe we should go hang out at his house.”
One important detail about this regular is that he is always at the dive bar, about 45 years old, always hammered and might legitimately have Asperger’s Syndrome.
I immediately told her no and she tried to assure me, “He doesn’t have to do anything with us, he can just watch.”
Oh my god, no. I told her politely that I was very gay and not at all interested. Her response was just, “Well I’m bi.”
At the same time, she had finally found what she was looking for in her backpack and pulled out what I thought was weed. As I was promptly saying, “No thanks!” and running away, I got a closer look and it was much darker and stickier than weed. Let’s hope it was just hash but I really have no idea. I just knew I had to get out of there right quick.
In all honesty, she may have not been homeless but she definitely seemed like she was trying to find a place to stay that night. And I didn’t get that close to hooking up with her but I was kicking myself for even letting myself consider going on a “walk” with the girl.
So here’s to standards: may we all have and keep them!
P.S. As per usual, I don’t own any of the images, only my shame. Also, we should probably stop the stink about image stealing. It’s the internet. It’s like that one time that the White House asked that everyone not photoshop that image of Obama and EVERYONE did. Except for me, of course. Move along NSA, nothing to see here…