I couldn’t let him flounder.
Even though I just met the guy a few hours earlier at a watch party for the AFC Championship Game between the Baltimore Ravens and New England Patriots, we decided to hit the town to celebrate the good guy’s win. Him, being from that area (Baltimore) and me, being a secondary Ravens fan and knowing Joe Flacco a bit, seemed like a good match. Plus, he could put down some drinks and didn’t seem fearless around women; so all in all, it seemed like a good idea to continue.
After the game, we bounced to a bar at which one of his friends said there was a pretty big party going on. We got there and while it was decently crowded for a Sunday night, it wasn’t anything to write home about. Yet as soon as we walked in the door, I knew the game plan. Although unspoken, we’d be fellow wingmen.
Fast forward to this moment and I’m feeling good. I already hit it off with several groups and my new friend also had been enjoying himself. This had big potential.
As I chatted with some random folks at the bar after grabbing a whiskey/water, I saw him trying to convince a group of two women to talk with him. They weren’t completely invested, kind of facing away and just hearing him out of the corner of their eye. Even though they weren’t the MOST attractive of women, I felt an obligation to help him out. I ejected from the group, prepared for one Kamikaze mission and made a beeline to split the difference. Once I got there, something changed in their demeanor and suddenly, their bodies turned and they engaged us in a conversation. Maybe it was what I said, something along the lines of, “I see you found one of the happiest guys in [said city] tonight. And your names?”
From that moment on, he and I locked in like a pair of old friends. They couldn’t believe we just met and after I told my target that I couldn’t help my personable nature, she looked at me and commented, “Yeah, I can see it in your smile.”
Well, we transitioned outside and a third guy who tagged along with us from the watch party became a bit of an awkward third wheel. Lo and behold, he wanted to be the referee as we played Cornhole, which put him into a weaker position. Midway through the game, my new buddy began kissing his target and even though conversation flowed well between me and mine, I just didn’t feel the urge to go for the kiss. Truthfully, I was locked in a zone and destroying everybody in Cornhole. I can’t remember one turn in which I didn’t hole out two bean bags.
Eventually the other guy departed, which left the four of us to our own devices. We hung out a bit longer, played some Jenga. I tried to gauge the girls’ reaction to some crude humor when playing Jenga and the other chick laughed and had some fun with it, while my target kind of had a stone face about her. Since I pride myself in my sexual nature, I want to push the boundaries a bit more each time.
Once we got done with Jenga, the bar was about to close. We walked outside and my new buddy kind of pushed the idea of the other chick taking him home. Not usually my style to force your way into a situation like that, but it worked. Her friend asked me if I wanted a ride back to my car and I told her sure. I wish I had a better story to tell you after that than: me chatting with her a bit, getting a ride back to my car, sitting in her car for a bit more and then leaving to drive home, but I don’t. I never felt ‘the spark’ with that chick and wasn’t going to force one. Still got the number, so if I want something in the future, I might pursue it again.
If my new buddy got his dick wet, I would feel as if my night was successful. Hell, it was successful anyway, but that would make me feel like Chris Paul a bit more.