Guy sits down. I originally planned to refer to him as Dumpy Guy #40, but as I told my brother about the interaction, a new name was born…
Sure, at this point I’ve had a few drinks. But I’m not so intoxicated that I am being unreasonable. I have however lost control of some of my manners. So as he tells me about his son who he doesn’t have custody of but still gets to see on occasion even though the bitch of a baby momma tries to keep him from their kid blah blah blah… I realize I am rocking slightly from side to side.
It was an unconscious action and the question I asked myself next, “why are you doing that?”
So I sit on my hands and refocus on the story.
“If you don’t like to go 178 miles an hour and do things fast, I’m not the guy for you. I just had back surgery. I was throwing hay. I haven’t left the house in over two weeks until tonight. My son wants to be me. Wah wah wah wah wahh wahh waaaahh wah wah.”
Well, date formerly known as Dumpy Guy #40, you’re not the guy for me for a lot of reasons, one of which has just become glaringly obvious. One: You’re dumpy. Two: You have a kid that you don’t have custody of for one reason of another. Three: Your stories result in a lot of Charlie Brown adult speak that sounds all “wahh wahh wah wah wahhh wahh.” Four (the glaringly obvious reason): I was rocking back and forth because I can’t tell if you are looking at me and unconsciously I was trying to shift into your line of sight.
That’s right, Googly Eye had googly eye. No telling if he was looking at me, or Tiffany, or the girl to my left, or the picture behind me, etc. You know what I’m talking about and if you laughed, at least I’ll have a friend in hell.
I’m wishing the host would blow the whistle on this. It’s making me nauseous like a spinning carnival ride. Maybe Googly Eye is wondering when this will be over too, he seems to be looking for her, or me, or something… again, I can’t tell.