The Big News..for me anyway.
Jan 13, 2006
Jan 10, 2006
I am King Kong's Bitch!
Dec 14, 2005
Dec 09, 2005
Listen up you lucky people!!!
Nov 10, 2005
Et tu LordLonely?
Et tu LordLonely? Or how to fail as a wingman, lesson 101.
Justin and Rob decide to grace myself with a trip down into downtown Pontiac for the 2nd annual Pimp's n Hoes festival at the Mill street bar. I thought they were joking about that, but sure enough people were dressed as pimps and hoes. nuff said.
The ambiance of the bar was such that we never saw a waitress for entire 3 hours that we were there. Did they come near us? Yes, but NEVER stopped at the table. The crowd was mostly people of my age and older, and slim pickings to boot. But we were having a fine time regardless. Sometime during the evening, it all changed.
From the other side of the bar, walking over to our table, was the nicest (most normal looking woman in the bar) came over and planted herself down next to Rob. In the course of about 20 seconds we found out she was 21, nursing student, lived just around the corner, and was attending Oakland university. All the time with her eyes fixated on Rob, and stating that she wanted to come over and meet us because we were the closet people to her age in the bar. Once she found out how old Rob was, she was cool with that along with Justin, but my age broke the bank, and she fixated on Rob. Fine, I thought to myself, time to go into wingman mode. Justin and I helped Rob out where we could and just tried to be the best wingmen we could be. However, this is where I failed the chosen one.
Granted, Rob being on point and spending time on her side of the bar was experiencing things that he later told to me, filled in some blanks on this barmaid being quite highmaintence and she had not even left the bar yet, mind you. So Rob got into full get-r-done mode and was working the hottie masterfully, when it looked like he took a break and just stopped to let some other guy interrupt his mission. Justin and I were mystified So when he came back to the table, he was immediately pestered by myself on getting it back together and continuing the mission. The break point had been reached.
Thinking that Rob only needed a push, literally. I proceed to push on a highbarstool that Rob was sitting on with my right foot, with the intention of sliding him away from the table and back into action. What I failed to notice, was that the floor, had that industrial weave carpet on it. Sliding was not an option. The chair moved, tilted, and down goes Frazier. To myself, I remember this in slow motion as Rob, turned and looked with open eyes in disbelief, as he hit the deck, nearly landing in the table group of people next to us (who were ever so cool and not getting wound up in this).
To be honest I was trying to stifle the laughter, but I honestly started to think I was a dead man by Rob's own two hands. I apologized (as much as it would help me). And just went back into wingman mode and shut my mouth (sort of). Remember how we had no waitresses in three hours?
Well when Rob fell, it just so happened that the bartender, 40 feet away, actually saw the whole thing, minus my foot pushing the chair. Which comes into play very soon, as Rob went to the bar to buy the hottie a drink suggested by her friends(something called a dirty girl scout), but the bartender wanted to cut Rob off cause they saw him falling out of the chair. So Rob had to explain to them, that he was not bombed and that an ASS had pushed his chair and proceeded to demonstrate his soberness, because we had had only a few beers (cause we never had a waitress all night). So with a slight delay, Rob had the drink for the hottie and was ready to serve, but then the hottie turned psycho weird in the bar and it became obvious that she was just not all there. It was there for the hitting, but all the uneccasary hoops kept being place to jump through, to hit the target, just got ridiculous.
So the hottie was turned loose and with the evening winding down we left. Rob got to play lead pilot, Justin the wingman, and myself was the guy who couldn't make even junior wingman 3rd class.
Moral of the story, I am the furthest thing from a player. I am not sure I could even be an 8-track player, my skilz be so bad.
That's a great story! Poor Rob, first he embarassingly falls over after having his chair kicked out from under him, then the one girl that shows interest ends up being a total psycho?! Actually, that sounds like a typical night for me when I was up at NMU!