Big Chris and I just returned from "one of (his) many birthday dinners" where we sat at the bar of the Buckeye pretending to watch college football while eavesdropping on the 60-something internet date sitting next to us. We have come home, where Chris insists on writing "the blurb now, while it's fresh in our minds."
We've named the gentleman Ron and the lady Linda, and once Ron started being a dick to the bartender, it was on.
Chris describes Ron, who is bald with white hair, as having George Washington's haircut. Ron wore a blazer and t-shirt and was going for a cool, casual look. Instead, he looked like Grandpa douche.
Linda, a blonde, struck us as "clearly out of Ron's league." They were both short, Chris noted, and sat at the two seats nearest the wall. We had dinner sitting right next to them. Ron and Linda sat down right before us, and as Ron is such a loud and enthusiastic talker, it was impossible for us not to become involved in their conversation.
We entered as Ron used the phrase, "cougar juice."
Ron, in between complaining about the (awesome) service, was describing his worst internet date ever, which happened 5 years ago. It involved a chick reading her "overtly sexual poetry" (Ron's words) to him over the phone, before she arrived 30 minutes late for their date.
Upon seeing her, Ron described the poet as "a bowling ball. She was 4'5" in both directions. She was fat everywhere, not just in her hips but in her waist too. Everywhere."
Linda was eating it up, laughing as Ron went on and on about this dreadful date. Chris insists I note that Ron was constantly filling Linda's white wine glass, "acting like a Freshman in college trying to get a girl drunk."
There were lots of moments of my giving Chris the "are you hearing this?" look and him taking a sip of his beer and saying, "Jesus Christ. I think we're being Punk'd."
Ron's bad date story was admittedly a really good bad date story, and he was selling it hard. Talking loud, gesticulating wildly, really painting the picture of this horrible evening mostly to demonstrate to Linda how comparatively, their date was a big hit.
Ron, dominating the conversation, then dove into how pretty Linda is, what a great time he was having, "sounding like a desperate single woman in her 30's." Much to our delight and horror, Linda and Ron then share what we believe to be their first kiss.
They were totally making out at the bar, in between discussing "where this is going."
Chris almost "threw (his) ribs up."
Subtly kicking each other, Big Chris and I decided that obviously, Ron was closing this deal tonight. I was curious how Ron planned to do that, and Chris said, "When the time is, aka: when his Viagra kicks in, Ron will say in a deep Barry White voice, 'Let's get outta here.'"
Linda, I think it's safe to say, was into it.
And God bless 'em, having this sleazy, drunken date. They were obviously enjoying a very flirty, affectionate time. Christ, they couldn't stop talking aout it. And as far as we were concerned, it was simply too good not to observe.
As Big Chris just stated, "God bless them and God bless the Buckhorn!"
Big Chris' ending, which he typed himself while announcing that he felt like Doogie Howser:
Ron and Linda appeared to be having such a great date leading to freaky circus sex that it shows that no matter how many times you've been around the block romance is alive and well or at least until the booze wears off also I ( Bethy Spotswood ) am thinking about using the six free months that Match probably owes me.
I recommend the brisket...