One time in the late 80s Toland and I had this crazy idea: We were both single, and we'd heard about somewhere in this big, magical world were clubs where boys picked up girls.
We thought we would go to a dance club, meet some girls, and have sex. With the girls.
You can go ahead and stop laughing.
So he lived in Houston, and I was running late. I grabbed a bag to pack, started grabbing CDs, toiletries, and ended up sort of a mess of stuffed pockets and hard-to-carry stuff.
We met at his apartment and proceeded to the club. Awful dance music, just the type of stuff we hated. We struck all the way out. We sat there for hours, unable to make eye contact with anyone, unable to summon any nerve, just two utter losers in the middle of a pipe dream, way out of our context.
We got back to his apartment at about two a.m. Dejected, un-laid, frustrated... I went to his bathroom to change, and saw that there in my shirt pocket was my toothbrush.
Yes, I'd spent several hours in a dance club, desperate to find a girl, while carrying my toothbrush RIGHT THERE in plain view.
Have I ever mentioned that I wasn't very successful with the ladies?
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He visto la papa.
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2 comments:
hahaha....that one made me laugh out loud. sadly, i've dated two too many guys with bad oral hygiene and would most likely seek out a guy who carries a toothbrush in plain view. if he has floss too, i'll marry him on the spot.
Thanks for reminding me of the most humiliating night of MY ENTIRE LIFE!
Actually, I still get a chuckle when I think of that night. You nailed it: we were totally out of our context. The singles bar scene was not our world at all, so there's no shame in coming home alone. It's not in either of our natures to be pick-up artists.
My sister (who, you might recall, was living with me at the time) never fails to rib us both (you in absentia, of course) about this evening, whenever it comes up.
Michael
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