You have to be HERE
The biggest issue with adjusting to life in the Philly suburbs has definitely been my odd schedule. As almost everyone knows by now, I work from 4-Midnight Tuesday - Friday and from 2-10 on Saturday, which usually ends in me being semi-concious by 10:30 when I walk in my front door from that shift. . . so basically my social life has been fairly non-existant. However, as I'm now taking my second vacation in 4 weeks, I'm determined to make the most of this time around here and make an effort to get out and about. So in that vein, I went out last night to one of my old school haunts. . . . the mother fucking Buffalo Wild Wings!
You see, in Knoxville, the only Buffalo Wild Wings is on the heart of the University of Tennessee strip, and since most strip dwellers travel by some strange movement involving putting one foot in front of the other, there is all of 3 parking spots. It was a fantastic setup when I was a student there (almost 10 years ago now. . . wow) or when we were doing our weekly remote broadcasts on 1180; but any other time it was really more of a hassle than it was worth to visit; however I no longer am in Knoxville, so I decided to look into my options.
3 locations in Deleware, all within 20 miles of each other (which considering the whole state is 50 miles or so from end to end is probably less impressive than it sounds). So yeah, I decide to go to the closest one to my place last night. . .
I walk in and the place is PACKED. I soon learn this is due to .40 wings and the various beer specials. I find an empty barstool and order up a tall Heineken and 10 Honey BBQ wings. The dude sitting next to me is probably on his 6th Yuengling or so, but he seems to know everyone at the bar, so I probably have chosen wisely. About an hour or so later, I've sampled 10 Teriaki wings, and 5 Carribean Jerk and a few more Heine tall glasses, I'm ready to settle up and start the 40 minute or so trek back to PA. . .then Captain Social and his crew leave and I see them. . . .
TITS!BOOBIES!KNOCKERS!
And that's a bit of an understatement. These love pillows are among the most awesome set I've ever seen in my life (and that my friends counts for something!) She knows it too because they are all out for the world to see. But the most impressive fact is that she's completely top shelf across the board. Nice little body on her, gorgeous face, and long hair that is pulled up. She sits down, and I order another Heineken; as it would now take wild horses to drag me out of that place.
I learn that this woman who was engineered by someone very close to God; is named Samantha and she works as a waitress at an italian resteraunt in Bear, DE. She is flanked on either side by her girlfriends. Megan and Bonnie. . . I've always said my favorite attribute of the North American hot girl is that they tend to run in packs. . . well that has it's pros and its cons. Most everyone should know the conundrum that's caused; but for those that don't allow Mr. Stephen Lynch to explain it for you:
Click to viewSo I'm stuck in this situation with no wingman to back me up. I now have to be Maximus and win over the mob. Fate throws me a bone when Megan and Bonnie go outside to smoke. I seize the opportunity, as she's drinking a chocolate Martini.
Me: I haven't seen one of those in a while.
Her: You clearly don't go to bars with a lot of girls there.
Me: I don't go to a lot of bars period. . .
No, that was not the best start; but I recovered nicely after her appletini arrived (yes she's going the girly route of all martini's all the time). After botching up the early approach, I decide I need to bring out the big guns. I order her a Tokyo Tea.
(aside: For those that don't know, a Tokyo Tea is a Long Island Tea - the splash of Coke which is replaced with a splash of Midori. Which makes it pure alcohol and ice; though our bartender did cut this one with sour mix)
The Tokyo Tea arrives as soon as Megan and Bonnie do; and I immediately expect the cockblocking to commence; however just the opposite happens, as BOTH immediately turn into my Wingmen. I actually am telling Megan how the last time I ordered a Tokyo Tea to hit on a girl not knowing she had been already drinking for a while and the talk turned to the ex-boyfriend. Megan's response (completely deadpan) = "You just became THAT GUY". . . yes, yes I did.
In this case, the Tokyo Tea hit the sweet spot; as she is now feeling quite nice. Meanwhile, I've long since switched to Jack Daniels. The second smoke break of the night turns to more drinking discussion as she's now got another FUCKING Martini in front of her.
Me: Are Martini's all you drink?
Her: Mostly anything with Vodka
Me: But no Cosmos?
Her: I don't like cranberry juice.
Me: (calls the bartender over) She needs a Mind Eraser.
She gets scared; so to be supportive, I decide to do one with her (twist my arm. . .) we finish the drink just as Megan and Bonnie return from lung cancer. I actually now have a taste for Kahlua; so I go all Lebowski with it and order a White Russian. Now Samantha is demanding I order a "Knock me down and fuck me" So, I order up a round for everyone. . . never has such a pussy drink had such an awesome name. Nyquil has a higher proof, but hey, it makes Samantha happy. . .
So, we're getting close to last call; I decide to close this deal. I want to make plans to hang with these girls (but mostly Samantha) again. I need numbers, I need Facebook info, I need all that good shit. I put Megan in charge of keeping my info (as she's already the best wingman ever); Bonnie pulls me aside and slips me Samantha's number, saying (I swear to God)
"She's too big of a pussy to give it to you, but she said you asked for it"
Score. As I'm leaving the scene, big hugs all around. I don't know what will come of it, if anything, but for one night out on the town; I remembered that I do in fact still have some game. . . . and the hangover to prove it.