9/16/14

Missed Connection:

Like most good love stories begin, I went to The Huddle last night after fleeing my regular Tuesday night bar like a desperate refugee seeking shelter from loud shitty music.  I was catching up with some friends over drinks and after a few I headed to the bathroom.  If I had known I was about to meet the love of my life on my way out, I probably would have fixed my makeup.  There you were. Leaning against the jukebox with what I can only describe as those googly eyes that you glue onto construction paper and anything else around during arts and crafts as a kid.   I'm fairly certain you were drunk, or maybe you just have lazy eyes?  I can't wait to learn all these little things about you! I'd like to imagine you were selecting songs for our wedding reception.  I paused by the bathroom door, trying to figure out how I was going to get around you since you were blocking my path with not only your body, but also with your raw animal magnetism. You looked at me the way a hungry lion looks at a steak and the eloquence poured from your lips much like the alcoholic vomit poured from it later I imagine:  "Do you want to make out?"  Is what you said, but I know that "Do you want to exclusively date me for the next year or so, get engaged, have an outdoor June wedding and honeymoon in Florence?" is what you really meant.  Being as incredulous as I am and just to make sure I wasn't way off base with my romantic deduction, I asked, "What??"  "Do you want to make out?" You repeated.  Almost annoyed that I had not yet consented and that you had to reiterate what was probably so difficult for you to put into words! (Your love for me.)  Sadly, when it comes to the game of love, I always fall far too late.  For as you awaited my answer with hope in your googly eyes, you were only met with heartbreak when I told you no and walked away.  But you would not give up that easily! Oh, not yet.  For in retaliation just minutes later, you approached my friend with the same proposition, only THIS time you offered to show her the $12,000 in your bank account as what I can only conclude was some type of make out dowry.  I am no stranger to heartbreak, and I will not pretend that this was any exception or that it did not cut me straight to my core.  I guess here's what I'm really getting at: I'm just a girl, sitting in front of a computer screen, asking for another chance to make out with a drunk stranger.  So, what do you say?

Sincerely,

Miss Missed Connection