Vegas, Baby

My first adventure into the local bar scene:

A good girlfriend of mine had been asking me to go out with her for a few weeks and I had been putting it off. It was my first time visiting a bar as a free agent. So finally I set the date with her for a Friday night. I went home, did a little workout, soaked in the tub, watched some 30 Rock then it was finally late enough to start getting ready to go  out.

I spent an ridiculous amount of time trying to decide what to wear, tamed the hair so I could wear it down, added make-up and I was ready for the night. I swung by to pick my friend up and we were off to a bar in the new hip place to be in our city.

The place was packed, but great! We finally wedged ourselves into two seats at the bar and were plied with a few drinks from our friend the bar tender. The occasional wandering guy would stop chat, buy us a drink and move along. But there was this one group of guys who kept coming back. Their drink of choice that evening; Irish Car Bombs.

Two of them were at one point asking us to judge there drinking race and we happily obliged....the winner of the contest wandered off to something else shiny that caught his eye but his buddy, we'll call him Vegas, stayed behind. Now Vegas stayed with us for pretty much the remainder of the evening effectively shooing away creepy barflies and being charming.

We snapped some photos together and he handed me his business card, it truned out he worked for hotel in Vegas and was in town for the weekend visiting his buddies. The brighter side to this picture (I thought at the time) was that he was from here and implied that he came home often. He asked me to email him the photo and then walked us to our car to protect us from a particularly creepy barfly who had been kicked out of the bar earlier and had been loitering outside for a while.

A few days later I dug his business card out of the wallet and emailed him the photo and thanked him for walking is out. After I hit send I spent a few blissful moments in my own fantasy world quitting my day job and picking out curtains.

His response to the email? It never came, I stopped watching for it and filed for an imaginary divorce.