Thanks to a Butthead

So, last night I cancelled my dentist appointment and went out for some bevvies with my SI. SI has an ex that has been the hugest Butthead in America, and he made a timely reappearance on her radar over the weekend, so we went out for drinks. Good excuse to catch up, and maybe do some boy watching at watering hole where the service stinks but the odds are good. I did me a little walk to get up there, which sucked in 90 degrees heat, 80 percent humidity, and 600,000 tourists on the same sidewalk as me. I lasted about 2.5 miles before I hit the subway (which, usually once you get past the general pee smell in the station, the cars are often delightfully cool). We had our drinks, some food, and miserable service, and decided to find another location--particularly because we were outside and couldn't take it anymore.

We go to bar two (very important on a Monday night, folks, gotta support the economy) and some random guy (forever known as Country Club) sits down next to me. After some prodding from SI, and some strategic bar menu placement while he went to the bathroom (put the menu closer to him so I have to ask him to look at it, therefore inviting conversation and fodder--I know, I am as slick as a fifth grader--ladies watch your men!), we strike up a conversation. SI graciously bows out after an hour (God love her, great wingman that she is) (oh, and it's also flipping Monday night and it's 10 PM) and I continue to chat it up with Country Club.

Our opening conversation involved dating horror stories. Now I clearly had my story with Fish Boy still fresh from Sunday, and happily shared it. But I have to say Country Club's may have been worse. See, CC is from Florida, and was spending time out on Long Island for vacation. He met this chick who lives out there when she was in Florida a few months back, and apparently they had been planning on meeting up and spending a few days together out on Block Island or Montauk or something like that--had done the phone/e-mail thing, made plans, blah blah blah. They meet up at a bar, and it turns out when she meets him, she made a mistake. The whole time they were talking long distance, she thought he was someone else. Not only does she admit this, but apparently stumbles all over it, and of course, CC is like WTF? He says she nice and hot, but just nothing going on upstairs. Needless to say they have dinner, have a nice time, and go their separate ways. Instead of staying out on the Island, CC decides to head into the city for a few days (hence us meeting him at the random bar). Apparently the chick has been calling all day apologizing and trying to get together, and CC is totally ignoring her.

What a sucky story! I mean, no matter how dumb you are, you can't fake it that this is the guy the whole time you were talking to, and then either fake an illness or an emergency? My guess would be that CC didn't come up here just for her, but it was probably a part of it. Anywho, clearly crappy dates can go both ways--I actually felt the need to apologize on behalf of all women to CC, because I thought that stunk. He was apologizing for Fish Boy, but I told him one guy not having a personality or the ability to hold a conversation was not indicitive of the entire male species, and therefore the apology was not necessary (but definitely appreciated).

Lesson? Someone's crappy date can make my already great evening turn into a fantastic one. I had a great time talking with CC for hours, and we exchanged contact info. So, shout out to the dumb lady on Long Island--thanks for being an idiot and letting me look good!

Oh, and I actually have something nice to say to Butthead. Thanks to you being an idiot, I had a great night.