I guess the first point I need to make is that I am pathetic. Acknowledged and understood.
Friday night was pretty much a disaster for me. It started out well enough I suppose. I baked up some walnut brownies to share with the staff at Shenanigans and they actually turned out moist and chewy, the way a properly baked brownie should be. A lady friend (emphasis on the friend part) was at the bar so I had someone to converse with. And of course I was in my standard pub mode regaling the young bar workers with jokes and stories. They always laugh, but then again, I always bring them sweet treats. I did have an epiphany that I have become my father, at least as I had observed him in various bars whilst I was growing up. Hey, there are worse things to be I suppose.
Then suddenly my mood took a turn for the worse. I’m not comfortable going into details now, but I’ll just say that a person I admire and respect and hadn’t seen for a couple of months came into the bar and ignored me. Worse than being ignored really, because my attempts to engage were coldly rebuffed. I had considered this person to be more than an acquaintance and it hurt to discover I was less than nothing to her. So I had another beer and stewed on that for awhile, then feeling uncomfortable with the whole scene said my goodbyes and fled the bar.
I went to another place I’ve been known to frequent and ordered up a beer. The bar was not particularly busy but other than completing the transaction the bartender had nothing whatsoever to say to me. This is someone I’ve known for going on ten years. I would have been satisfied with a simple “how’s it going John”, but it never came. So my already black mood continued to darken. I finished my beer and left.
Back on the street I could have turned right and gone home or left and gone back to Shenanigans. I turned left. The bar was crowded but I found a small table in the corner and I plopped down and ordered a beer. From my vantage point I could see just about everyone in the bar. My “acquaintance” saw me but still had nothing to say. My lady friend was still there and walked by a couple of times but didn’t notice me, nor did I attempt to greet her. And as I sat there alone watching all the people around me having fun and sharing laughter I really began to feel as if I were invisible.
So I wallowed in self-pity for awhile then made my way to the bar. My lady friend had departed and I found an empty seat and proceeded to do something really stupid. I drunk texted (technically Kakao’d) my lady friend about how it felt to be invisible. She thought I was talking about her and she was mortified to think she had made me feel that way. She apologized and I tried to explain it was not about her. And then I think she realized what a self-absorbed pathetic fuck I am and the conversation ended. Haven’t heard from her since and I expect I won’t again. She’s probably better off that way.
Yesterday I woke up feeling like shit. Then the internet went out. It’s amazing how isolated that can make you feel. So, I did a little housekeeping and started to set up my new portable dart board, only to discover I don’t currently possess a single screwdriver. I briefly considered driving on base to buy some tools, but in the end didn’t want to deal with the hassle. Instead I took a nap. Awoke to find the internet was functioning and finally finished my Cambodia trip report.
Which brought me to a little after 7:00 on a Saturday night. What to do? I was thinking I might ought to take a break from Shenanigans, but maybe I could throw some darts with Jim at Dolce Vita. But as I was walking to the bar I encountered Jim on the street (we are practically neighbors) and he was heading home for the night. Damn. So, I figured what the hell, new night new attitude and popped into Shenanigans. The place was jammed, even my little hole in the corner was occupied. Now, Shenanigans and Dolce are the two bars I know will not object to me enjoying some nicotine laced vapor and I figured I was going to need plenty of beer and nicotine to get me through the night. Dolce it is!
I was the only person at the bar and I commenced to drinking. For whatever reason being the only guy at the bar is easier than being the lonely guy at the bar, if you get my meaning. Which is not to say I wasn’t both but it didn’t bother me so much last night. Partly because I had some friends keeping me company from California and the Philippines via the miracle of internet chat. Is this a great century or what?
Four beers into my solitary sojourn at DV now and I had to pee. From the window in the men’s room you can look straight into Shenanigans. Which I did and noticed there were some empty seats at the bar. Beered up and ready for live interaction I paid my tab and hustled over. I plopped myself down at the bar and almost immediately a woman I know from the dart league approached and asked me why I was drinking alone. The only answer I had also happened to be the truth–because I didn’t have anyone to drink with.
Soon enough she sat down at the barstool next to mine. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?” she asked. Nope. “Why not?” Just haven’t met anyone I told her. One of the miracles of OB Lager is that it gives you the courage to say what’s on your mind (which of course can be a good or bad thing). So I told her I had always enjoyed seeing her at darts, that she was beautiful, and that if I was 20 years younger she would be just the type of woman I would go for. She laughed and said “how old do you think I am?” I guessed 35 and she responded that she was 42. I was amazed because she has the body of a 20 year old. Doing the math in my head, I figured she was right at the edge of being within the “it won’t look ridiculous” age range. Well, my big ass belly and her slender body would look ridiculous I suppose. But that’s gonna be true with any woman I meet.
Anyway, we commenced to talking about Korean politics. Damn, she’s smart and pretty I thought. And then she told me about an article she wrote that is being published in one of the big Korean newspapers next weekend. Damn, she’s smart, pretty, and talented I thought. I ordered us up two more beers.
Then I went to the restroom to make room for more beer. When I returned a guy was standing next to this amazing woman (between my stool and hers). I had met him before, he’s a semi-regular but his job keeps him in Singapore most of the time. He had obviously met (let’s call her Kim) before. No big deal, the three of us engaged in some pleasant conversation. The Eugene (of Gino’s pizza fame) showed up and bought us a round of Jameson whiskey shots. I offered to buy a round but Kim said it’s Dillinger’s Bar 6th anniversary tonight and we should really make an appearance. So we agreed we’d do the shots there. And yes, the Singapore guy came along. Hell, to make it easy let’s call him MFer.
Dillinger’s was busy but we found an open table. Ordered beers, than I bought the promised shots (Fireball Cinnamon Whiskey). We continued to converse and then MFer bought a round of shots. Then the owner of Dillinger’s joined us and he bought a round of shots. MFer had strategically placed himself next to Kim and as she got drunker I noticed she was leaning against him for support. And then it wasn’t long before she fell face first right into MFer’s mouth.
I made my apologies and headed home. But I think I forgot to pay my tab. I’ll take care of that today before darts.
So when I got back home I made a discovery. It seems that copious amounts of beer coupled with whiskey shots somehow makes you more aware of and sensitive to the Earth’s rotation. At least when I laid down in bed I could feel the room spinning. The only way I could get in sync was to lay spread eagle on my back on the hard living room floor.
I call that getting floored.
I’m pathetic. I know.