PlatKat.com: G00b Don't Have to Go Home Tonight (Wait, Yes You Do)

Thursday, April 03, 2008

G00b Don't Have to Go Home Tonight (Wait, Yes You Do)

Awhile back, I went to a local pub called Six Arms on a Friday night by myself. They had an internet connection and food, and I needed both. They also had beer, which is probably the reason for my encounter with the following g00b.

While I chatted online and played poker for a few hours, fielding the occassional question as to whether I was playing for real money and if I was "winning," I enjoyed one of the pub's signature brown ales five or six times. The beer helped relieve the fishbowl effect I was feeling from online gaming in a public place, which is still taboo despite its popularity. It could have been just me, but some people looked at me as if I were a heroin junkie, so comfortable with my addiction that I had the audacity to shoot up right in front of everyone.

When I finished my game, I left my table and headed to the bar to get a sandwich. I had a decent conversation with a guy sitting next to me at the bar. He wasn't much to look at, but kept me entertained while I scarfed down a reuben sandwich that cost significantly less than $18 (ahem, Pike Place Brewery).

He was a lifelong musician, about ten years older than me. He was in a band, and also worked in a record store to offset the cost of being a lifelong musician with few other marketable skills. However, if talking like a pseudo-intellectual were a marketable skill... man, this guy would be so money.

I enjoyed another brown ale, at least twice, and then it was closing time. My new one-dollar-word-using musical-instrument-player (what, I'm supposed to remember his name and what he played?) companion and I learned that we lived within blocks of each other and headed home. I felt like drinking more, so I invited him up for a beer.

He told me about his music, and I told him a little about what I was doing in town, how long I'd been here, and some of the events that brought me here. He said, "I'm sorry," a little too emphatically... and repeatedly... when I spoke of my recent breakup. I know he wanted to sound nice, but it came out sounding patronizing. I may have fucked up several (thousand) times too many, but he was still in no position to feel sorry for me.

I finished my beer and announced that I was tired and planned to go to bed. He informed me that he'd be happy to stay the night. While I'm sure that was not a lie, I had no interest in any further relations with this guy, particularly when he wanted to exchange numbers and then flinched when I whipped out my Sidekick as if I'd drawn a gun.

After dictating his number to me, he said, "We don't have to have sex. We can just lie down together."

Great, so instead of meaningless sex with someone I'm not even slightly attracted to, I can share a bed with someone I'm not even fucking. Super. I declined once more and led him to the door.

As I opened the door and he walked through, he turned to look deep into my eyes and say the following: "You don't have to sleep alone tonight."

I replied, "I am newly single in a new city. I sleep alone by design. Good-bye."

And that's how you get downgraded from possible drinking buddy to not-a-chance-in-hell-ever g00b.

posted by platkat @ 5:13 PM