(Transcribed from notes I took as the evening progressed. This is the lazy way to make an entry, I know.)
I arrive. The living room area is full of strangers. The bar is full of PBDs. I sit in the red room and make small talk with CoffeeDude. Mostly about DaveFest. I order myself an NABC Community Dark (200). I'm thinking that tonight might end up being more about the quantity than the quality of the beer. Not that there's anything wrong with the Community Dark.
I miss out on everything when I sit back here.
CoffeeDude says that a bunch of them are going to Steinert's to listen to some band later. He's thinking that I might want to come. I'm thinking that it will be nice when some of these people clear out of here.
If the idiots leave the living room area then I'll probably move over there, but I don't know why.
I had a dream today where she showed up as a blonde. She was hot as a blonde.
I think I'll write an entry about what I said vs. what I meant and/or didn't say. For example:
I said: I am your friend, but I have to go now.
I meant: I am your friend, but right now I can't even look at you.
Some dork and his semi-hot date just took the other red room table. I'll predict a Corona for him and she'll settle for Spaten Lager after being told there's no Bud Light.
She ordered a White Zinfandel. Well la dee fucking da your majesty.
Okay, my psychic skills are crap tonight. He ordered a Bell's Two-Hearted.
Maybe I'll wait for the bar to clear out and sit there instead. That way I'll still be able to write shit.
Here's another example:
I said: It's good to see you. What's it been, two weeks?
I meant: It's been twelve days, twenty-two hours, and fourteen minutes, since I last looked into your eyes. And now I'm afraid to do it.
The sweetness of this beer is coating my mouth. I don't think I'll have another one.
OddlyPrettyGirl is here.
I have a couple of small samples of beer that I've never had before.
(draft) A mild aroma and flavor. There was a hint of spice at the finish. Quite interesting. I liked it.
t Smisje Wostyntje (Mustard Ale) (4)
(draft) Kind of funky aroma, which was to be expected I suppose. A mild mustardy flavor. Interesting enough that I'll probably try it again some night.9:56
The idiots are leaving the loveseat.
I order a half-pint of the Flying Dog (14) and move over to the loveseat.
I ended up on the throne instead. Everybody left but HotRedHead and her boyfriend.
Sorry guys, but Gay Night is Monday.
I order myself a Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (464).
It's hard to write when I'm sitting in this chair.
This beer is yummy.
I'm not interested in the free live porn show, so I'm moving to the island.
I just spent a half-hour listening to EuchreDude tell his tales of Internet dating disasters. Scary stuff!
All these memories keep flying back at me. So far they're bouncing off. So far. I take another drink.
I want to see her. Right now.
I said: I hope you feel better soon.
I meant: I want to hold you, and rub your back, and stroke your hair, and make you feel better. But I won't, because I might not be able to stop, and then you'd have a whole new set of problems.
I order a Diet Coke so I can kill some more time here.
A bunch of people have surrounded me so they can use the ashtray. That one girl is hot!
You wanna know a secret? I think I want a baby in my life.
Yay, I miss her! Wait, I mean shit.
To be perfectly honest, this feels right. This feels natural. This just fits.
At least I'd know, if I uncorked all these bottles, at least I'd know what I was up against.
This one chick that just sat on the sofa has nice tits. Fake, but nice.
I dreamed that she was a blonde, and that she was beautiful, and that I wasn't afraid.
I was ready to leave but SpikeBoy came in, so now I'm going to stay and bullshit with him for a while.