Last night, at the wine bar on the far side of campus, Footsie Boy was our waiter, and very pointedly did not look me in the eye. From across the room he would stare, presumably wondering Is that the guy I played footsie with in my Mass Media class but then when we studied for the midterm I revealed that I am the stupidest person he'd ever met? but I can't be sure. That's what he should have been thinking, at any rate. It was half-off all bottles of wine, and my friends are alcoholics.
I'm not the designated driver, since we all live within walking distance, but my job is just as important. I keep an eye on everyone to make sure they don't do anything stupid, like bring home a guy with missing teeth to 'watch a movie' at bartime. It's not cockblocking, since it's established, and so far no one's called me up the next day with "oh my god why didn't you let me go home with that guy," but a few people have called to thank me for stopping them, and a few have forgot what happened completely, and I've had to remind them that I didn't allow them to go home with the overweight guy wearing the KoRn shirt who bought us shots.
The jazz band was loud, and we were right under the speakers. As the night went on, the lead singer got more and more drunk (the last song of the night went something along the lines of "We want some shots bartender, some Whiskey shots Mr Bartender, Bartender give us some shots now"). Conversation had gone by the wayside, and the place was getting crowded. I excused myself to the bathroom, or rather got up and mouthed the word 'restroom' since it was futile to try talking at that time. I didn't have to go, I just needed it to be a bit quieter.
I come back from the bathroom, and Guy is sitting at the table behind us, with his hand ver prominently placed on the knee of the (not very attractive) guy sitting next to him. He said Hi and removed his hand from the (not very attractive) guy's knee and shook mine. I asked him how he was, and asked if he just got into town or had stayed here for the summer. He replied "We just got here; I've never been to this bar." I repeated the question, and then he made the "I don't understand what you're saying, but I'm cuter than you are and I'm tipsy so I'm going to shrug my shoulders and put my hand back on this (not very attractive) guy's thigh" sort of face. However, he'd gotten a haircut and it's way too short now, and he totally wasn't cute enough to pull it off, especially paired with a plain white tshirt with pit stains, and the beginnings of a beer belly (though that might be due to how he was sitting). I mean, come on. He was still cute, just not as cute as I remembered him being.
Footsie boy walked past again, and we got another bottle. I poured myself a large glass, and said "After this, I need to get out of here." I had to repeat myself three times, but finally they caught on and got to slamming glasses of wine. We got outside, and I explained the situation.
"Hey guys, remember that time I had sex with a guy and then developed a crush on him and then he was kinda rude to me? Yeah, that was one of them." Of course, the wine was kicking in by then and it probably sounded something like "Hey membertat time I had sexx wit that oneguy" but fortunately everyone else was drinking too, and they could get the jist.
I forget who I was talking to online, but we started making a list of all the things I should do my last semester of college. Like, getting drunk on a Monday in college is cheap and fun, but once you graduate it makes you an alcoholic, and there's a sliding scale for the Walk of Shame where it's kind of empowering in college, and then the older you get, the sleazier it gets. And how it's, well, it's not ok but its more acceptable to be in the chatrooms when you're young, but once you hit 30 and are spending hours a day in the chatrooms you just become sad.
Maybe I should have done something. I can only be drunk and make an ass of myself for so long before it becomes a sign of alcoholism. I should had flirted with him, tried to steal him back or invite myself over for a threesome, or find someone else to make out with right in front of him, or something. These are supposed to be the best times of my life. I should live it up, and make the most of living at the #1 Party School in the country (at least according to Playboy). It's easy to stop someone else from making an ass of themself, but now's the time to be doing it. I should be getting it out of my system.
