Remember that first post where I told you to stick around because you might hear some ridiculous stories? I think this is that time. Seeing as these are very real events and very real people, I shall do my best to respect their privacy as best I can. Let’s say no last names or photos? Perfect.

Friday night was my work party. I got down on the dance floor and thoroughly impressed my superiors with my superior dance moves (this story is a little biased but seriously, my CEO came up to me at lunch today to make a comment). Afterward, we decided to go out to bars in the West Seattle area. To my surprise, it seems there are a lot of lesbians hiding in West Seattle. As soon as I realized this, my main goal of the night was to flirt with all of them. It’s good to have goals in life.

The sketchy Chinese restaurant slash karaoke bar was a bust. Armed with my new friend and wingman Zach, I burst into the room, did a quick scan and then approached a very attractive girl with dimples to die for. Turns out she has a long distance girlfriend she’s crazy about. Fair enough. I even ran into her the next night at the Wildrose and she came up to say hi. My flirting, although direct, tends to make me a lot of friends. I get turned down A LOT. I’m okay with that.

Our next stop was a place called Bamboo. To my surprise, there was a table FULL of lesbians right by the dance floor. Score. I think it’s fair at this point to admit I was very intoxicated. I just walked up and sat down next to a cute blond wearing a backwards cap. Not my normal type with the hat and all but she was adorable.

We start talking and I’m doing my best to drunkenly flirt. She admits to me that she never gets hit on so we’re both on the same page that I’m interested. I ask for her phone number and get it. As I’m taking down her number, she checks to make sure I still know her name, which to both of our surprises, I did. Her name was Katie. She’s a manager slash mechanic who runs an auto shop. Score. I’m sure I made some comment about her fixing my car and thought I was clever. She probably NEVER gets that.

Next thing I know, some tall brunette is standing over me and startles my hand off Katie’s leg as she informs me I’m in her chair and must move. Confusion aside, I apologize and tell Katie that we should hang out sometime but I was going to go dance for a while (remember my moves?) and she could come join if she likes. I go dance. She doesn’t join.

I wander to the bathroom and the tall brunette follows me in. She informs me that I’m flirting with her girlfriend and that her and Katie came here together so I should back off. It was weird. I apologize and offer a peace shot. We take a shot together, she leaves, I’m real drunk now. I think it’s an awesome idea to buy Katie a drink but have one of my friends deliver it. I send her some text about her girlfriend accosting me in the bathroom and that I didn’t know and that I am, again, sorry. Although not that sorry since I clearly hadn’t given up.

The bar finally closes and we pour out onto the street. There, my new wingman Zach and I start talking about how we went to the same high school and some lesbian overheard. She tells us she also went to the same high school and was a year younger than us. I, obviously, use this opportunity to inquire about Katie and why she would have given me her phone number when her girlfriend was right there. Random lesbian from my high school (I have absolutely, positively no idea what her name is) informs me that Katie doesn’t have a girlfriend. So I give her a quick update as to what happened and she reveals that the tall brunette is actually Katie’s straight friend, who is a “bitch.” Those are her words – not mine.

Color me confused. I ended up sending a very drunken text message telling her I heard she didn’t have a girlfriend. Then I called my personal cab driver, JD, who is wonderful, to come get me and bring me home. Did you know it’s a $40 cab ride from West Seattle? Woof.

I woke up Saturday and reviewed me textual interactions with Katie and realized I had been a bit of an asshole. Although it was now abundantly clear that she wasn’t interested, I apologized for being a dick and admitted my poor behavior was because I had really liked her. No response. Obviously. Something about the whole ordeal irked me. I get turned down enough to not take things personally – I just don’t like the idea of being lied to.

It should be noted that I was in a full pantsuit and was wearing a tie and had also lost my peacoat that night. I also attempted to learn how to pop my booty. I am not very good at it. For those that don’t know me well, you might think this is a sad story. But really, I had an awesome night. Awesome.

Part 2 of my weekend is coming up! Still left to come: Cougars, more phone numbers and mimosas, oh my!