Stuff I forgot: An Appendix, if you will

So I wrote that last loooong entry and then left my apartment, came back later and read it (noting some embarrassing spelling errors) and realized I had forgotten a few things that have been happening lately. I don't care if you are sick of me already, if I have funny stuff I get to write it. And here YOU are.

These are in the order they occured. It makes more sense this way.

Brazilian Bartender (BB)
Two Thursdays ago I went with Court to the bar under/next door to our apartment to watch the Mavs game. The Brazilian bartender (who is cute in a not my type way) that always flirts with me was there, we took advantage and got some free beers and talked with him quite a bit. It was a slow night so he was not busy. He asks me if I had been to the steak house on the other side of the bar (like 2 doors down from me) and I say no, but I heard it was good. He asks if I want to go next week, so I say OK. Why not? Steak IS my favorite food. So the next week on Wed (which is now last week) he meets me downstairs and we walk over. I decide to play it cool, try to make it clear I want no sort of relationship out of this, etc. Well at first it is a little awkward, but after some wine we start having funny conversations, mostly related to drinking and going out. We eat and drink and talk and are having a really good time, but I realize I have no idea how to put out any "friendship" vibe. So I offer to pay, thinking if I thought of this as a real date maybe I wouldn't have? I don't know, this is why I don't date. Especially people I know I won't end up "dating." Well, we leave and he wants to go to a bar and get some beers, so we do, and I get a little drunk. It is now way past my curfew I set and I am drunk: two things I did not want to happen. I was having fun so I let it slide...then he walked me home and I tried to kiss him on the cheek and he turned! I should have known this trick b/c he did it at the bar before too. So I sort of kissed him. No tounge or anything, but then it was awkward again and I went inside. Fine, fine, til the next night (Thurs, in the entry coming up) when he texts me and asks if I am coming by his bar. I say no, we are not close (when in fact I was), and then he called on Friday to say he was in the neighborhood and didn't start his shift for a few hours. Luckily I was screening and just didn't call back til later. I ran into him Sat night, glasses clad, and he still texted again Sunday...I texted back for a bit but didn't want to be in a long text conversation where he is complimenting me (I am such a bitch, I know) so I just kind of stopped responding. I know I am weird, but I can't handle all of this at once. I need the chase. Too bad the chase is across the Atlantic Ocean all fucking summer.

The cell phone that needs to be glued to my hands
So Thursday night of last week was one of those nights where you plan to go out just for happy hour, but somehow you find yourself wasted contemplating whether or not to get on the bar and dance. Sheri, Merna and I started off having wine and a few beers at some places about 10 blocks north of my apartment. We were kind of drunk, kind of bored, and kind of looking for some boys to buy us drinks. We started walking and where did we end up? None other than McFaddens, the bar across 2nd Ave from my apartment. There were a lot of people there, and even though lots of times (especially on the weekends) the crowd is slightly...eer, trashy and/or old, there was a good mix of normal fratty people. (It has been said by many that this place turns into a frat party late at night. Those people saying this don't mean this in a good way, but alas, the smell of stale beer lures us like no other.) The bartender is cute. Cute, but kinda short. Sheri flirts and gets us a round of shots. Some guys we are talking to buy us beers. We stay in our spot by Cute Bartender and get another shot when some other people buy a round. At some point I go to use the restroom, and on my way out Cute Bartender (CB) says, hey, you are one of the shot girls. To which I reply, why yes, yes I am. Just kidding. But anyway we start talking and he is no longer on shift so he comes over to "buy" us a round. Sheri and Merna are otherwise engaged...and Merna is belligerant...(contemplating whether or not to get on the bar and dance) so he and I do a jaeger bomb. My idea. Then he asks what else I want, and I am bored of beer and knowing that I am not about to black out, so I order a rum and diet coke with lime. At this point, I have had: 1/3 of a bottle of wine, 3 beers, 3 shots and am now consuming a R&DCw/L. I somehow held a funny, engaging conversation with CB and before I knew it I looked around and discovered that my friends were gone. Totally fine, since I live across the street, but I look for my cell to call them. Guess what? Not in my purse. The shit ton of different kinds of alcohol previously consumed caught up to me, and I start crying. CB and I look around on the floor, but to no avail, so he decides to walk me home. He swears up and down that he will find the phone, he will even go back and talk to the bartenders and search more. I give him my email address when we get in front of my building incase he finds my phone. Then we make out. Hah. Now remember that the other bartender, BB, works next door to my apartment. I am hoping that he doesn't come out for a smoke break to see me kissing CB from across the street. WHO gets themselves into these situations?!?! Luckily, BB and CB did not have a run in, and when I checked my email in the morning, CB had emailed saying that he had my cell phone. One of the managers found it at 6am. So I had to go across the street the next day to get my beloved pink razr, and again I thanked my lucky stars that the items I lose are somehow found 90% of the time (i.e., wallet found by cop a few weeks back).

Not as funny but if only to make a point about how ridiculous my life is, on the way home that Sat night we split a cab with Derek. I guess I had my cell out in the cab and somehow left it there. When we came home and I was looking for my phone to get the # for Ziggiz, I realized I didn't have it. We called it and WOKE DEREK UP from being passed out in the cab...so he took my phone and brought it to me on Sunday. Plus he was thankful for the wake up call. Ridiculous. And yea, I know, I am one lucky bitch--in some ways. Let's not forget the pink eye.