Friday, April 8, 2011

Always carry business cards...

I wasn't planning to post tonight. I am sick with a cold, but thanks to this blog and my mission, I was going to sacrifice a post by going to happy hour instead (I know - I'm such a martyr). But it's not the easiest to run out to a bar alone (no problem out of town but in town - haven't mustered the courage), and I needed a break from the internet dating. So I was forcing myself to go to a happy hour planned by my friends to raise money for Team Red, White, and Blue (a charity that mentors and supports returning soliders and their families) even though (per Ann) I sounded like Marisa Tomei in "My Cousin Vinny". Amy happily came along as my wing woman (she won 2 prizes in the raffle).

So happy hour was nice and relaxing - uneventful. I won nothing. We laughed; we talked. We had a few beers. And then we went down to the main bar. We were both hungry and needed dinner. So the only seats were at the bar. Sitting at a bar is a great place to meet guys. I don't know what it is - but it's so easy to make conversation with a cute guy when you are sitting at the bar (but you need only one friend - too many wing women - no guys talking). I love sitting at the bar.

Anyway, before I know it, there a few guys that sit down next to me at the bar. And I start checking them out. Who cares? I'm writing a blog about dating - I'm looking for a husband. I can't let any opportunity pass me by. So I start exchanging words with the one sitting next to me. Off and on - nothing terribly exciting, but still charming. But after we both finish eating, we strike up a conversation. Amy, being the great wing woman that she is, occupies herself, but I know that it's getting late (late for the time we said we were going to stay out). Thank goodness, I'm not wasted or even buzzed. I start digging around in my purse while Amy pays the check. Jackpot!! I find the case of business cards that I usually have thrown into my purse. I pull one out and put on my coat while another guy talks to me. So as I finish, putting on my coat, the other guy leaves and I say to the guy at the bar, "Here's my card. We should go out sometime." He says, "I don't even know your name". I tell him mine and he tells me his. He takes my card. We shake hands and Amy and I are out the door. It was so slick and so smooth.

Amy tells me as we are crossing the street outside the bar that I was so slick and cool. I get a low five. She's amazed at my huevos. Who knows if he'll call or email, but this girl has game!

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