There was a lot of appeal to the event at the art museum. I am a fan of art, more modern than classic but I was bought up in a cultured household and enjoy my time looking at it for multiple reasons. Mostly it’s not a computer screen or a high definition television. And we have a world class art musem that lets you in for free. So I can pony up $60 for a once a year fundraiser.
The problem is that I don’t want to go alone and my prospects – even to find a wingman – are slim. I know how going alone will likely play out, but going alone beats staying home on a Saturday night for my psyche right now. So my time is my own after 5 PM when I drop my daughter off. It’s warm enough to go for a 3 mile run to begin the pregame ritual. Then a base of pasta dinner. I know I am cabbing it tonight and I am going to be about chest deep in alcohol at some point.
Continue the pregame ritual of beers, loud music (Social D) and college hoops with no sound on the TV. Being a single man CAN be fun. Beers and a shower, getting my GQ on. Call a cab, beers and Social D while I wait. The cab comes and we’re off.
Party Arty starts at 8, so 9 PM would be the perfect landing time. Again, I am flying solo and that act has about a 2 hour window as a solo act before it expires. Different story if I get en extension from a friend, female, or both. Party Arty also supplies an open bar and experiences tells me it’s well drinks only. A weapon of choice I think I can tolerate would be vodka sodas (influenced by my ex and by Tucker Max. A tounge in cheek ‘thank you’ to both).
First stop, neighborhood bar. I need to calibrate my body to well drink goodness, and I need some “bully” in me as we called it in college (liquid courage to some? fuel? preparty?). “Vodka soda…well is fine,” I order. And another, and another. Remember, I am cabbing it tonight and I am solo. I learned on this one that drinks should NOT be a substitute for conversation. And I learned that I should probably halve my pregame ritual and save it for the actual playing field. Duly noted, once I sobered up.
One of the things I like about this neighborhood bar is the cab stand up front. “Art Museum please”. Aren’t I cool. Very nice event, showcasing the new modern wing of the museum. Like I said, I am a fan, I could go once a week. The beautiful people, the beautiful people are there. I get a drink and make a round. I get a drink and make a round. Lather, rinse, repeat. And I realize I am becoming myself at 20. We’ll talk about college DWM later.
I saw friends but they looked previously engaged in their group, or friends that lacked the appeal of conversation for Big Chief Vodka Soda. I get a drink and make around. I try to engage in some clever banter, but I REALLY should have had a wingman. FINALLY, a group of girls that like what I [may] have to offer. I remember holding my own in conversation, but that’s all I remember.
Three girls leave, one stays. I am TRYING to focus on the conversation, and make it engaging for her. A small victory would be her number. A bigger victory would be a date. For DWM, closing a deal tonight would be huge. Trying to focus turns to struggling to focus. But being the good guy that I am, I just tell her “I’m sorry, I’ve really gotten too drunk to have a good conversation.” Yeah, you have was her reply, and probably an “I’ve got to get out of here” from me. And a cab ride home.
Big Chief Vodka Soda. A- for effort. D- for excecution.
