How We Met Part Dos

Looking back, this is possibly the worst pick-up line ever in the history of time. First of all, to this day I’m not entirely sure that there are five oceans. It’s possible that there are only four (apparently there is now a Southern Ocean, but I think that’s a new thing). Second, what? Could any question possibly be more random? In other words, I have no idea why this question made me want to respond to him, but I did. I laughed and named the four oceans I know and then he introduced himself and we started talking. The main thing I remember from our first conversation is that when I told him what I study he said, “Oh, I’m finishing my Masters in X!” X was a subject very similar to mine, so I thought for sure he was just pretending that he studied the subject so that he could get into my pants. But when I tried to call his bluff by asking him some questions about his subject he was able to talk about it enough that I knew he was actually telling the truth. Sadly enough, that alone impressed me. I had gotten so used to being hit on by lame guys who would quite obviously just pretend to be interested in what I do in the hopes that eventually I’d get tired of talking so we could hop into bed together. Penn wasn’t like that, though. Sure, he may have been trying to get into my pants for all I know…wait; actually, I DO know now that he was trying to get into my pants because he admitted it to me. But the point is, he wasn’t being as blatant about it as most of the other guys who I’d met in bars prior to that point. He was friendly and handsome and we were talking easily. For the first time all night I was actually happy that I had decided to go out. But then fifteen minutes into our conversation he said, “Well, I’d better go see what my friends are doing. Maybe I’ll talk to you later,” and he walked away. I thought, “Well, that sucks. I thought that was going well.” But what could I do? I let him go. Somewhere in the middle of our conversation I’d ordered another drink, and my aunt and cousin had come back into the bar but seemed to be getting tired as well, so, having struck out with the best-looking guy in the room, I started my departure countdown again: “When I finish this drink I’m leaving, for real this time.”
And then Penn came back! He came up to the bar to order another drink and we started talking again. This time we talked even longer. I found out he was from a city about an hour away from City B and that he was down for the weekend visiting one of his friends who was going to be getting married in a few months. I thought to myself, “Oh, too bad he lives so far away. I guess this won’t be anything, then.” But when he said, “Well, I’d really better go back to my friends because we’re getting ready to leave. Can I get your number?” I gave it to him. True, I always used to give men my number when they asked because I found it too hard to say no to guys’ faces. But when I gave Penn my number it wasn’t just to avoid an awkward moment. I was happy that he asked and excited about the possibility that he might actually call me.
Then he went back to his friends and I turned back to Rae and my aunt, who grilled me about the guy and said, “Oh, he was cute!” I said, “Yeah, well, we’ll see. He probably won’t even call me.” And that's when I noticed a woman about my age standing a few feet away, staring at me. She wasn’t even trying to pretend that she wasn’t staring, she was just standing there with her eyes fixed on me. So I did the only thing I could think to do, which was stare right back at her and raise my eyebrows in a way that I hoped said, “Chick, what’s your problem?” That’s when she walked up to me and said, “Were you just talking to Penn?” And my stomach jumped into my throat. I knew this was not going to be a good turn of events. In the second it took to say, “Yes…,” I convinced myself that she was about to say that Penn was a total psychopath and I shouldn’t answer his phone calls or, worse, that she was going to tell me she was Penn’s girlfriend. Instead, she practically shrieked, “Oh, good! I’m so glad! He was telling us that he just met a really cool girl at the bar so I had to come in here and see you for myself. And you look so nice! And normal!” I started laughing, then, relieved that she wasn’t his girlfriend and that he wasn’t a psycho. I asked her, “So, was I smart to give him my number?” and she enthused, “Oh, yes. He’s a great guy! You should DEFINITELY answer when he calls you.” Penn walked in then, along with the other guy he was hanging out with (the fiancée of the girl who had just accidentally freaked me out; three months later I was Penn’s date to their wedding). Unfortunately, at that point the balding guy with nerdy glasses who I had noticed earlier walked up to me and said, “You’ve been sitting down all night! Dance with me!” I didn’t know what to do. Here was Penn, obviously just a few minutes away from leaving. But here was this other guy who was clearly just trying to be friendly. He’d been making the rounds all night, talking to everyone in the bar and attempting to get everyone dancing. And I really, really can’t say no to people when they’re just trying to be nice. So I danced with the balding guy, well aware that Penn was watching the whole time. The older guy spun me around for a minute, and then as soon as the music stopped I told the guy thanks for the dance and then went right back to Penn and his friends to say goodnight. The last thing I remember talking about was poker. The girl asked me if I played poker and I said, “No, not really,” and she said, “Oh, that’s perfect! Penn doesn’t play either! We can all get together and we’ll teach both of you!” and then Penn and I exchanged, “Good to meet you”s and “Talk to you later”s and that was that. As soon as they had left the bar Rae said, “Hey, the guy you gave your number to looked pretty jealous that you were dancing with that other guy,” and I said, “Oh, really? Well, I was just trying to be nice to that other guy,” and Rae said, “I know, it was funny.” But I was convinced that I’d probably just blown it. Now Penn thought I’d rejected him and he’d really never call me. Greaaaaat. Oh well, though. I’d met an attractive guy who had asked for my phone number and had not tried to stick his tongue down my throat at any time during the night. All in all it was the most successful night out I’d had in months, even though I was convinced nothing would come of it.