Sunday, November 14, 2010

Remember when I was all...

"Dude, that guy is a total ass and I'm NEVA gonna talk to him again"? Yeah. That sort of gets thrown out the window when it's 3 a.m.

But to back up: I had no intention of doing anything yesterday. I was in my pajamas all day watching crap football. After the burning, searing shame of the previous weekend, I was taking a break from alcohol. Then I got an IM from Beth saying that she was bored. And so the adventure began...

I suggested that we go watch the LSU game at the LSU alumni bar because it wasn't on anywhere else. (I later learned it was on ESPN 3 and I could have watched it from the comfort of my own home, but whatever. You would then be deprived of all THIS.) We get there for the second half, have a drink at the bar, then sit with Sara Y and her boyfriend at their table and make friends with the other LSU people once Sara and her boyfriend leave. We watch the Cal game with them and found out that the Brickhouse (I believe?) is the unofficial LSU bar (that was some bullshit, btw, Cal, you should have figured out a way to win that one). Props to the LSU guy whose name I totally didn't get who went toe to toe with me in football knowledge and didn't balk at me being a girl.

Beth and I decide we need to go eat dinner and were debating some place around where we were, in the decidedly touristy Fisherman's Wharf area. And Beth has an aversion to seafood. So I finally decided, fuck it, she would LOVE Lorenzo's. I haven't been there in like a year, and usually alert Lorenzo ahead of time when I coming, but it's like 9 at night, so why not?

We walk in and are given the royal treatment. Lorenzo is eating at table but seats us, moves my car for me, and we begin the eating all the fantastic food I have come to enjoy there.

Oh, earlier in the night, Beth and I had discovered our mutual love of Carrier. We end up discussing this endlessly.

This will also lead to proving true what Andy told me about recency and confirmation bias, which he defined thusly:

You think you never see it, but then see it a lot: Confimation bias.
You see something once and recently, and take it as representative of the whole: Recency bias.

The reason this will matter is that as soon as I wrote a blog about wanting to join the Navy, started saying it out loud, it suddenly seems to be everywhere.

As Lorenzo comes over to say Hi to me and have some chit chat and I apologize for taking him away from his table, he tells me it's a customer that came in three years ago with the Blue Angels and is a pilot. My eyes get big. Beth's eyes get big. It was completely serendipitous. Beth and I enjoy our meal, as Beth is totally molested by the waiter, and then Lorenzo calls us over to his table, with the two couples, and we proceed to spend the next hour and a half or so talking with them.

The FA18 pilot totally tolerated all of my ridiculous questions. We discovered that he was on the cruise when Carrier was filmed, told us what a ridiculous shit show filming was, listened to us talk about who was hot and who was not. Said some less than savory things about the female pilots but also that they were awful pilots. He told us how horrifying it is to land on the aircraft carrier at night, but that some of his best missions were night flights, as it's infinitely easier to drop bombs then. He even knew the pilot that I talked to that night at Bar None during Fleet Week. Apparently the aviation community is small. His wife was fantastic too and tolerated us as well. Mostly me. Tolerated me. Beth is far better behaved than I. The other couple were also phenomenal, a guy who called himself a farmer, but was married to a lawyer and flew his own plane up from Lemoore (a city outside Fresno) just to have dinner and spend the night in SF. The navy pilot, call sign Bo (or Beau? not sure) was being deployed in two weeks on an aircraft carrier. I can not thank him enough for his graciousness.

Beth mentions that she wants to meet my brother. So I text him and find out he's at Bar None. We head over to the Marina. It is...ridiculous. But we end up having a lot of fun. Or I do. It's, I don't want to say odd, but I feel bad for Beth who is a non-drinker as I get progressively drunker, louder, more obnoxious. But she didn't complain and seemed to be having conversations with all of Doug's ridiculous friends who were there: Charlie, Derek, Chuck, etc. One guy who wondered why I didn't remember him from high school and insisted I should even though the reverse wasn't true. I don't know what that was about, things get admittedly hazy around then. I also vaguely recall dancing to a country song with some red headed guy. Weird. But it, actually. Doug and I didn't even fight. Oh, and I was purchased a shot of Jameson. I did not feel like throwing up. I threw the shot on the ground and put the glass back on the bar. Sorry for wasting liquor but, yeah. Oh oh oh! And I just remembered that Nate Schierholtz and his girlfriend were at Bar None. Talked to the girlfriend, not him, in a display of being, ya know, cool.

Beth and Doug are now friends. I was surprised to realize that my brother in his own quiet way had been following Beth's blogs ever since she wrote the piece about my dad. He knew exactly who she was. He has promised to try and get her an interview with his friend, a certain Giants closer that it annoys me to no end that he knows. I hope I get to tag along because I SO want to meet him.

Bar None finally closes, and thank wonderful Beth for driving us back to her place. I take over driving duties from there, find my way home, drive past Philly Club in West Portal even though it is 2:30 a.m. because I am a) an idiot and b) a glutton for punishment but then have enough sense to just go home. But you'd be silly if you thought I was done. I open my computer and have opened a few tabs in Safari but am not really paying attention. And I'm in the process of texting TB because...well...ya know...when my phone rings and it's him. But then he hangs up. So I call him back, "Did you just call me?" "Yeah. You're logged into [dating site] and I was messaging you but you didn't respond." "I am NOT!" Look at computer. "Oh. I am. But I wasn't paying attention to it...can I come over? I was in the middle of texting you when you called." "Come over."

And there you have it. But just so you know this is still me and I have, despite being admittedly awesome about it all previously, become fed up with the BS, yelled at him for a good fifteen minutes when I arrived. "You're an idiot. I totally deserve better. I should not be here..." And then. Then I pulled out of my ass one of those arguments that I don't even know WHERE it came from but probably has a ring of truth to it, "You stopped talking to me because you actually LIKE me and that scares you!" Pretty sure this was agreed to. Pretty sure it's irrelevant. I'm treating this like any other...ya know. I'm not getting on this crazy ass merry-go-round again. I'm more cynical and more cautious now. It's just not worth my time. I got plans for my life now, yo, and they don't involve being distracted by guys that don't treat me like I'm worth a damn.

I'm going to continue pretending that thing that's happening on Friday isn't happening and have a pretty busy week ahead of me.

So yeah. That was my Saturday night. And it ended up being pretty ridiculously epic. So thanks, Beth, for the random IM at 3:30 on a Saturday afternoon to get me out of the house.

1 comment:

  1. This seriously makes up for last weekend.

    SCORE on all counts!!!