The Spooning Incident

A few weeks ago we went to Scruffy's to shoot a little pool and do some general boozing. When we walked in a good looking girl turned around and yelled at me like she knew me. My interest peaked, I began to search my mind for vital information, such as where I met her and what the hell her name was.

I talked to her for about an hour and wasn't gaining any ground on finding out who she was. I was, however, getting pretty drunk and loose tonged. It had become apparent in my drunken haze that she defiantly wanted to pursue extra-barly activities...or so I thought.

I'm not very well versed in how exactly to close the deal at the bar, especially when I'm drunk. When it came time to make or break the deal, I said the first thing that came to mind. I asked her if she wanted to come back to the house and spoon with me. It didn't work.

Her smiles and laughter were replaced with wide-eyed fear. She looked around in stunned bewilderment at the request I had made. She finally looked at me and said, "I don't go home with guys from the bar." I rolled my eyes and thought to myself "those double nose rings tell a different story."

I didn't think much of it at the time. I did run into her at Wild West the other night and she insisted on sitting next to me and making it incredably awkward. Everytime I see her, she feels the need to say 'Hi.' I still don't know how or where I met her.

If she's not going to put out I'm not going to talk to her...dammit.