Monday, January 14, 2013

Don't Bet On It

Pretty sure these guys are going to hate me for posting it. Pretty sure I don't give a rat's ass, and the adoring on either side is mutual enough that I can get away with it without them being butthurt too much. Of course, every side has two stories... this is just mine. And mine just happens to be the epic side.Note: as in all GingerSpot blogging, the names in the stories are the only things that aren't real.


It's Wednesday and Gingerman's first day of being in Biloxi, having arrived the night before.  It's quite the story as to how I met said ging but- fuck it, not it's not. Met him via phone seven weeks ago through Skit. End of story.

Anywhozers, it's Gingerman's first day of Biloxi and Skit comes off the base to go fishing with his long time friend. Skit arrives at my place at about 1:30pm or 2ish to pick up Gingy.

Skit looks at me, still sittin on the couch in some baller shorts with my hurr in a tizzy.
"You comin'?" He asks.

Before I go any further, try to read Skit and Gingerman's voices with New York accents... because the accent is just the cherry on top to lovely stories to come.

I look up at the both of them, " Yeah? Come fishing with you?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"Give me a sec," as I run into my room, throw on some pants and a hoodie, slip on some shoes, and walk out the door right after them.

We get in the car, Gingy cranks the beats, and they start doing as they do- talkin, bullshitting, whilst I enjoy the backseat with the sub thumping.

Hooters comes into view, and seeing as how none of us had lunch yet, they jump on it.

Fuck. My. Life.
See, a gal like me- you know, one with morals, self respect, and dignity- doesn't like going into a place like Hooters. the last time, and ONLY time I did was in Canada with my bestie Belle. Strawberry daquiris and a fuckton of Loonies and Toonies. Enough said.

So we walk in, and "Welcome to Hooters!", and I already want to kill myself. 

We sit where we want to, being it's a late lunch and no one is around, and our waitress comes up and asks us about drinks. Don't get me wrong, she's a cute gal- and a brunette at that. If she was a blonde I probably would have slit my wrists all over the counter and given up before my birthday had even arrived.

She was pretty chill too. Since it was dead, she had plenty of time to bullshit with her one table. My frown turned upside down instantly when out of the waitress came, "I love your nail polish! It's so bright, where did you get it?", looking at my flourescent yellow nail polish.
Alright. So I'm easy to win over.
"You can get the colour at Hot Topic," I said," but the secret to having it turn out so bold is...." and I told her my secret.
"Oh my gosh! I would have never thought of that! Nice!" A bit more conversating on the nails, she gets the drinks, then the men order. I'm still not eating at said establishment.



So ladies, you ever been the only gal in a group of guys? Well sure, at one point or another, we all have. I don't care how fucking smokin or ugly or gangster you think you are, there is nothing more annoying than being that only girl in the group when the guys start talking about how 'hot' other girls are. Especially other girls around you. Especially your own waitress who you really want to try and like because she is really trying to be nice to you because she sees it in your eyes that you want to cut her.



So when the guys start yapping, as we all will, I go into that whole, "meh" and start phoning away. No one texted you? You text a mass of people until one responds! You KNOW you do! Some of us can shrug it off like it's no big deal. But there is that breaking point where some of us have a bigger dick than our vaginas and are forced to shove them out when we hear one say " I bet I'll get her number by the time we leave."

My ears perk. "Dude. I bet I can get her number before you."

Now, to protect identities even more, I won't tell you which one I'm quarreling with.

"Hey. I'm from New York. I'm cocky and I don't back down."
"Hey. I'm a chick and a charmer and not a creeper. Her and I are gonna become bffs reals fast."

The other guy interjects, " I dunno dude, I think she's got you beat. Girls warm up to other ones kinda like that."

"Ten bucks, let's bet on it," Back to conversation.
"Dude, I won't bet you. I don't want to make this into a competition. But you're going to lose," I said with a smile and a wink.

She brings some beers to the table while the guys start talking to each other again.
"I'm gonna come chill over here with you since we're so dead." She says to me, and sits on the empty stool to my left.
"Yeah, I'm pretty bored too, can' get a word in with this bromance going on across the table here." I said.
"Psh, I see that! It's okay, I'll be your date."

Winning.

That's pretty much how the afternoon goes. We ended up being there a little over a couple hours just hanging out at a Hooters. When she took the plates away one of em says, " Dude. She's gotta come to your party this weekend."
"I'm workin on it," I smiled. Because hey, how often do you meet a broad you actually get along with?

The guys get up and leave the table for a moment, and I cross my fingers that she'll come at the time... and she did. Perfect.

"They left you all alone!" She said.
"Dude I know! Can this day be any more eventful? BLEH."
Blah blah blah, shoot the shit,
"So hey, I heard you sayin you've only lived here about six months. I have too and I really don't have a social life outside of these clowns. Think we can exchange numbers? Because that would be awesome. I'm having a birthday party this weekend and you're totally invited.

"That would be great, yeah! But I can't give out my number, I'll get fired. But I can give you my name and you can Facebook me! Write your number down and I can text you." She said.

"I'll write it in love note form" I smiled, and raised my eyebrows to her.
"Ooh! Yeah do that!"

She goes to attend to her other customer that walked in, and I write on a napkin, in the classiest way I know how:

"Hello my sweets! I've had a fantastic time!
 I know I just met you,
 and this is crazy,
 but I'm having a birthday party this weekend at my place,
 So join us maybe?"

And signed my number and name at the bottom. 
The guys came back just in time to read my love note, and give me a handshake, "Nice. Very nice."

She came back with another round, loved the love letter, and stashed it in her waitress pouch thing.

Don't play the masculinity game with me. My balls grow with anticipation of the next one willing to step up to the plate.

Stay tuned for more stories to come about the birthday week adventure!

No comments:

Post a Comment