Monday, July 27, 2009

wait, beth. did he try to sell it to us or GIVE it to us...

Yesterday, because I've decided my entire life is the first awkward half of a romantic comedy, I boldly and wildly put it out there and experienced an epic fail. Which is how I found myself sitting at a bar in the middle of fucking nowhere next to Brock, who sat rubbing my back with one hand and sipping his vodka with another. "Oh Beth... Well, good for you! You have such a great personali..."
"Shut up."
A diminutive gentleman with a flaming red Amish-style beard was seated at the bar next to me. Motioning to Brock, he finally asked, "Is that your boyfriend."
Later Brock, who was wearing a fur stole at the time, remarked that whenever that question is asked of him and a girlfriend in a bar, he knows he's a long, long way from home. "I think it's the lack of clarity I find most jarring."
Put on the spot, I responded to the Leprechaun, "No, he's my very good friend."
I should have said, "Yes, the man in the fur is indeed my lover." But I didn't. In my state of rejected horror, I told the truth. 
"Cool." Said the Leprechaun. "Can I get your number?"
This, I should point out, was immediately after the Leprechaun tried to sell us weed. "Oh, golly. Um...I don't really give my number out."
It was all I could come up with and the irony of the day's situation was lost on neither Brock nor me. "My God, Beth!" Brock whispered. "This is extraordinary."
This upset the Leprechaun, who finally announced, "Whatever. I was asking for him anyway!"
He used his Leprechaun head to motion to the elderly gentleman sitting beside him, passed out next to his boiler maker. 
Maybe this little, drunk drug dealer with an Amish beard is the love of my life and I made him wallow in my cesspool of rejection because I didn't want to be there alone. I dumped my face in my hands and groaned, "Oh Brock, I'm so embarrassed!"
"Aww, I love you, Beth." Brock giggled. "You remind me of me. I mean, I went to this bar where, if you take your shirt off, you get a free drink. I removed my shirt and the hot bartender only gave me 50% off. And I'm talking recently."
And I laughed with my gay, like my character's supposed to do in this shitty, poorly-written, never-ending ro-co. 
But where, Nora Ephron, is my montage and comeuppance scene

11 comments:

Anonymous said...

Awww, Beth. I love you too!
Cute story.

Brock said...

One should wear only their finest, most luxurious attire at The Surf Lounge.

Melissa said...

I can't believe I missed this! And I'm with you - the phrase "you have a great personality" should be expelled from usage.

Anonymous said...

Sooooo, ya spend most of your time with flaming 'moes and you're crushed when the straight ones say,"No, thanks"...

Perhaps, since you seem to be half way there anyway, you should just give up on the breeding sort and declare yourself to be, uh, Oscar Wilde. Your lack of "junk" may be a challenge, but I understand that many of the boys aren't all that interested in it anyway...

Anonymous said...

You seemed surrounded by straight men on Thursday night at Le Club. It was great to finally meet you and the infamous Mr. X.

Karyn said...

OH Beth - I'm so sorry. Been there done that - but I PROMISE you that eventually taking a risk DOES pay off! You are stunningly beautiful - and you have the personlity to match! Any man would be LUCKY to have you!

Brett said...

I'm sorry I made you go...

Anonymous said...

What happened to the comment where Beth called the "sooo" guy an asshole? That was great!

Spots said...

Nice catch!
I thought it made me seem bitter.
I stand by it. That's a dicky thing to day. But I'M NOT BITTER...

Natalie said...

What's even more annoying is when people named "anonymous" leave dicky comments. As you point out in your comment message, at least have the balls to use your name.

Brock said...

flaming 'moes?

Beth, a former "Will & Grace" writer reads your site. Yay!