I must have decided a million times that I wasn't going out last night. My sleep schedule was all messed up and I'm on-call this weekend. Those would be the official reasons. The unofficial reason would be that I just didn't feel like going out only to have my mood deteriorate as the inevitable feelings of disappointment appeared once again.
So the plan was to come home from work, sleep until midnight or so, then shoot some pool.
My phone wouldn't stop ringing. It was either work calling about some perceived disaster, or my sister, or my friend Eric. The work calls I had to answer, the others I sent to voicemail. Don't these people know that I'm trying to sleep? Guess not.
About the eight zillionth time my phone rang, I looked at the screen, and saw a local number that sort of looked familiar. A number that looked a lot like one I'd deleted from my phone a while ago, because I couldn't trust myself not to call it.
She wanted to know if I was going to Rich O's.
Well, duh! Of course I was. Try and stop me.
So, while my new Hard Rock Cleveland shirt was dewrinkling in the dryer, I connected in to work to do what I could about the problems there. I called my friend Eric back. I didn't call my sister because all she wanted was for me to bring my camera if I was going to Louisville to listen to my nephew play guitar, and I wasn't going because (a) It was too late, and (b) HatGirl!
When I got to Rich O's, there was an über hot girl dressed like a flapper, and another girl dressed like, well I don't really know how to describe it. It was some kind of period costume. More on those two later.
Inside, I found HatGirl and LuckyFucker sitting on the loveseat, and a couple of strangers sitting on the sofa. I sat on the throne and ordered a Rogue Chocolate Stout (736).
After a few minutes, HatGirl and LuckyFucker left. Remember that disappointment stuff I wrote about up above? Inevitable.
The strangers recognized me from the whole DaveFest thing, and I spent the next couple of hours talking to them. They recently moved here from New York They're pretty cool people, which probably means that I'll never see them again.
My second beer was a Rogue Smoke (190).
At one point FlapperGirl and some other people came in and sat at the island. I went up and tried to start a conversation with her, mainly about why she and her friend were in costume. She blew me off and said it was just normal clothes. "But you're dressed like a hot flapper!" I protested. "And your friend is dressed like an Elizabethan alien or something!"
She didn't seem to like this, and her look told me to go away, so I did. But later, when I went to the bathroom, the guy I was talking to said that FlapperGirl had checked out my ass. So that was cool.
My third beer was a Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier, but I only drank about half of it (1240) because after the New York couple left a bunch of weirdoes came and took over the living room area.
Once I got home all hell broke loose at work again, so I spent the rest of the night trying to deal with that.