Out of Towner - Francesca

I'm already understanding why some people hate dating. I'm exhausted, mentally and physically. I know it's hard to believe, but it's tough being this charming all the time. I'm actually getting tired of some of my stories (I know, my friends are in shock). Plus, each date involves drinking...I don't want to commit to a terrible dinner date, so I'm only meeting people for beers. Last night I actually tried to meet people the old fashioned way...at the bar. It was supposed to be a set-up with a friend's date's friend, but he bailed, and I was happier for it. I found that the entire reason they'd asked me to come was to have me heckle him and put him in his place. While that would have been fun, it would have been a waste of the cute jeans and manicure. So, instead, I played third wheel, which got a lot less awkward as I drank more. I swear, the Captain makes any situation fun. But the commercials lie...when you've been drinking, you CANNOT stand in the Captain Morgan pose. You fall. But I digress...

Anyway, I was being my loud and outgoing self, and telling my all too repeated stories to my friend's date. I had prepped myself with the especially funny stories of travels and concert adventures. Suddenly, we have a fourth in the group. A guy has just entered our corner of the bar to laugh and converse with us. Squinting in the dimly lit bar, I see that he's not totally unattractive. Wait...let me finish my drink...oh! He's kinda cute! It becomes obvious he was trying to even out the party of three, and he seems fun enough. He's some out of towner, who has no problem putting our entire tab on his company card...I've decided I'm befriending all guys with corporate cards at the bar from now on. But I hit the inevitable problem of when I drink too much, I have no attention span. So not only am I incapable of listening to him talk, but I get bored with storied early on, or run off on wild tangents. But my charm is too much...he keeps following my free association babble. Did you know that in Massachusetts, they can't server more than 2 shots to you at a sitting? Neither did we, so the whole party decided to blow the popsicle stand. Logical idea? Heading to my place, where I have booze. Seems like a good idea. So, we all start doing shots in my kitchen, and my friends decide they need to call it a night. I mean, seriously, who stops drinking at 2 am on a Thursday night? I realized today, sane people. So, I decide to challenge Erik to a drinking contest...a terrible idea since I'm such a lightweight. Around 2:15, I realize I have no chance of surviving this contest unless I want to create a technicolor nightmare. I suggest we start having mixed drinks, as shots are a bad idea, and we kill the handle. At this point, Mr. In Town on Business tries to make a move on some business, but the joke is on him. I am no longer functionally drunk. I just slump over, tell him to chill out, and pass out. I awoke this morning, on the floor by the couch, with a note next to me saying it had been a fun time, but he had a meeting he had to prepare for, and he'd give me a call. Wait...did I give him my number? I don't know if I want to see what was OK with booze glasses by the light of day. And this, my friends, is why we use the Internets for dating. Real interaction just ends in too many shots and questioning why you even talked to them in the first place.