- I was recently set free by an amazing woman who gave me 3 beautiful children. At the ripe age of 37 years old I am currently learning about dating, in the 2011's. So much has changed and my old ways seems rusty at best, and to be honest, they were never all that good :-)But here I am, making my way.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Blog #7 - Does Foghorn needs his Leghorn - Part 1 of a 4 part series
Fog Horn Leg Horn is a classic, yet under valued, cartoon icon. I think its because his name sucks. Its just to damn long, I tried shortening it to like just Foghorn.....then just Leghorn. The truth is Foghorn Needs his Leghorn. And with that thought, oddly enough, came the wing-man. i mean I had always had one at my side and I felt like I wasn't reaching my full potential. It was time to fly from the nest. But before I start the next journey, I wanted to recap the wing-man’s role, because honestly, they can make or break you, regardless of your level skill in the “game”.
As my transition from “Husband” to “Single” has been interesting and I have found that I seemto use nick names and terms about every junction I pass through. This being no different I wanted to share some of the wing-man situations that have presented themselves as I moved through single life. These situations are based off my own experiences and are all products of incidents involving a wing-man (or in 1 case an “Alleged incident”).
So it starts with what I will call a “bad” night. I was confronted with various “outside forces” acting in concert with the Universe to shatter a perfectly nice summer evening. in the aftermath, I lie on the couch, mumbling to myself, some drool formed in the corner of mouth. The dog was staring at me in disbelief, I think wondering if she could finally kill the cat without me noticing. The house was dead quiet! If it were a movie, it would have been an ominous sign.
Then my cell rings...breaking the silence, causing me to choke on the saliva, but its actually the first good news of the night. The ring tone isn’t the Imperial March nor is it the cackling laugh of a witch, both bad signs!!! Its the theme from “Blade”, no idea the name but I like the beat, it picks me up and lets me know the night might still be salvaged. Sadly I learn the Dude may have had an equally disturbing evening. The choices that present themselves are simple, drool on the couch alone, or hit the field and see I can play the game. The decision is made, lets play ball!!!
So we hit the town, drool is gone and I found that I had become severely dehydrated. I seem to remember a saying like “Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate” or did I learn that at the quitters convention known as AA? (Yeah I called you a quitter!!) The main problem was that I hadn’t begun drinking early, so I had to compensate by drinking often.
One of the fun parts about my life is that I don’t plan, plans are for those that lack imagination and creativity to deal with evolving situations that life presents. Once we hit the city we decide to be our own person and meet up later. The Dude started the “rounds”and I did the perch and pounce. You know sit and or stand in one area and let the ladies walk by me. As I was waiting for the “right” woman to walk by I saw an unattractive, yet well endowed, woman looking my way. She approached and spoke with me. No cause for concern here, I wasn’t interested in the least, so I was calm, confident, and polite. All 3 of these things sent the wrong message, but she walked away with a smile, so no harm done! I continued my perch tactics, but decided to move to a different location in case she came back around. No use being easy to find, I didn’t want the “rude” that I’m so capable of using being thrown out there.
I find 2 young ladies, short skirts, long legs, blonde hair, sitting alone. But damn, why do they all look so young?? And no I don’t feel like a dirty old man. I step to the plate, game time is here and I’m not sure I can pull it off, big swig, empty my glass and walk up. The opener I chose was corny but it gives me more room to move, you can make fun it, yourself, or as I did in this case, some poor sap that I said used it a few minutes before.So for my opener I asked her if the tag of her shirt said “made in heaven?” She, and her friend, looked disgusted, I pointed to the Dude who was still making rounds, and said “I just heard him say it” and then I waved with him off with the 2 finger - thumb out wave, a pre-determined sign to stay away for now. He looks confused and walks off and with that the “opener” was sold, and they giggle with me, at him. Ice-broken! We discuss his poor choice of pick-up lines and I SUAL (remember Shut Up And Listen). They enjoy talking about themselves and I enjoy thinking I’m doing good. Then one starts smoking. The other takes a couple puffs. Now, maybe I’m picky, or stupid, but the idea of cigarette breath, complete turn OFF. I think about it more....and decide to order myself another drink, in a high ball glass, make it a double! Maybe I can move past this, I mean seriously, if we add their ages together then they are older than me, and so I could call them Cougars!! I continue running commentary, I’m doing well, they offer a smoke. I think “No, smoking sucks!” Oh, did I say that out loud....yes, yes I did. They are offended, they say I should find little “Ms. Perfect” I say I will, but I’m waiting for my drink and they leave.
They had a nice spot outside, and oddly enough I hear someone say, thanks the smell of smoke sucks. There I go, another opening built off the first. I turn, its Ms. Well Endowed! Shit, she snuck up on me. She sees I’m low on my drink and tells the waitress I needed a refill. Although I already had one coming I let her order me another, and I say Kettle and Soda, High Ball, double, again. My 1st drink arrives, which I inhale, while keeping up the small talk, all the taboo topics like politics, religion, Yankees vs. Red Sox...nothing seemed to offend her. The Dude comes by again, this time I send out the 4 fingers and a half wave, meaning “Help” as in S.O.S. He giggles and walks away, I roll my eyes, she thinks I was being funny about her topic, which I clearly wasn’t listening too! But it was a ruse, and he returns. “Hey man I need help, Ladies, I need to steal my friend” and BAM I’m out. I realize I missed the free drink though and decide to work on my timing better!
I run into some friends and settle into the evening. Nothing like friends and a few high ball glasses to recover from what might have been a bad night. As I chat I see Ms. Well Endowd, she’s with her friend, she smiles, I give the ‘how you doing’ nod...wait, what did I just do??? Shit...I recognize this, I had inadvertently put on the goggles! I look away, mental note, DON’T MAKE EYE CONTACT!!
Although I know I can trust myself, I begin to look for the exit, no need to take chances. I mean, whats the big deal anyway....Holy shit...I better find the Dude and get outta Dodge!! AS I walk past her, she grabs my arm, she has my drink. I take it, a drink is a drink, Curses, she is smart!!! We talk, she seems nice, and as I stare at her chest, she doesn't attempt to draw my attention else where...Damn Goggles!! I look around for help as she asks where I’m headed. She thinks she is headed home for a drink...was it an open ended statement? Crap...the goggles have welded themselves to my face.
I’m in full on panic now. Is this it, is tonight the night I have chew my own arm off. See back in the day, it was easy to tell a chick to pound sand, I wasn’t out to find a friend and when I made it home, there was going to be a lady there waiting! Now the goggles and foggy judgement were playing trick on me. I could walk out without her, no one would know...Mopeds are fun, right?? As I was patting myself on the back about how I was going from Icebreaker to Closer...which was clearly not the debate I should have been having. The Goalie came out of no where. He was like a savior, I knew instantly, he saw inside my head. “What are thinking man?” he said. I said I’m gonna do something “big and bad!” No, no your not, and like that I was saved. He thwarted her scoring drive, gave the Dude a penalty flag for unnecessary distance from a bad decision, and escorted me away the source. She walked away. As she did I was thankful, I was wondering if I could have chewed through my own arm to avoid waking her!
Sadly I never gave him a proper thank you. The Goalie is the unsung hero. Closing with that girl would have been a loser for me, after all no sex is better than the kind your friends get to make fun of you for!
So does Foghorn need his Leghorn? He did that night and Goalie....Your the man!!!