So my happily-coupled friend Jen and I are out watching my team lose terribly on Saturday when (well into the fourth and shamefull quarter) she points out this really cute, tall, dark, stranger that she thinks I should talk to. She clearly loves living vicariously through her single friends and is psyched with her sighting. I'm thinking what's the point? But, it seems that the handsome stranger and I have mutual friends. I make a deal with Jen that we'll talk these mutual friends and if this leads to us talking to him... bonus, otherwise it was never worth our time.
My scam is genius and, within minutes, we hit it off with the guy she'd selected for me. This goes really well for about half an hour until I called the guy "shorty." This was clearly a joke as said guy is well over 6 feet tall. However, apparently this pulled the trigger on some reverse Napoleon complex because the next thing I know he was reeling and asking me to guess his height.
I guess 6'3." Wrong answer.
Jen backs me up because her bf is 6'5" and this seems right to her. Wrong decision.
'Shorty,' claims to be 6'7". Thinking this is a joke we played along and tried to laugh the 'mistake' off.
'Shorty' isn't having it. He got really defensive and did everything from asking his 6'3" friend to stand next to him to challenging Jen to a fight. Attempting to be witty he then demands that Jen get a piece of paper and sign a permission slip for before said fight.
As the situation was getting ugly, and there were mutual friends and football watching-peers about, I did everything to smooth the situation. I jokingly renamed 'shorty' 'Geoffrey'' (ala Toys R Us), admitted false fault, nothing worked.
Jen and I finally decided to change the subject and back away slowly. We let him know it was nice to meet him and that 'look at the time we're off to another bar.' We picked up our purses to make a quick exit, started to turn and heard 'wait.... would you girls like to go to another bar with us?' Us meaning 'shorty & co.'
We politely declined. This led to a confrontation over where we were headed. But, standing under the shadow of a persistent and potentially crazy giant, we threw out 'Off the Wagon' random. We had no intention of going to Off the Wagon, we're just looking for a near by haven with lots traffic to and fro... and thus, lots of witnesses.
Shorty/Geoffrey then decided it was time to insult our choice of venue. He gave a passionate reprimand on how Down the Hatch (same vibe and management as Off the Wagon) is the obvious only decision.
This time we allowed him to revel in our ''ignorance'' and when he turned to the bartender to close his tab, we fled.... to Off the Wagon as we figured if nothing else, crazy-tall-guy was too proud to back down and be be seen there.
My scam is genius and, within minutes, we hit it off with the guy she'd selected for me. This goes really well for about half an hour until I called the guy "shorty." This was clearly a joke as said guy is well over 6 feet tall. However, apparently this pulled the trigger on some reverse Napoleon complex because the next thing I know he was reeling and asking me to guess his height.
I guess 6'3." Wrong answer.
Jen backs me up because her bf is 6'5" and this seems right to her. Wrong decision.
'Shorty,' claims to be 6'7". Thinking this is a joke we played along and tried to laugh the 'mistake' off.
'Shorty' isn't having it. He got really defensive and did everything from asking his 6'3" friend to stand next to him to challenging Jen to a fight. Attempting to be witty he then demands that Jen get a piece of paper and sign a permission slip for before said fight.
As the situation was getting ugly, and there were mutual friends and football watching-peers about, I did everything to smooth the situation. I jokingly renamed 'shorty' 'Geoffrey'' (ala Toys R Us), admitted false fault, nothing worked.
Jen and I finally decided to change the subject and back away slowly. We let him know it was nice to meet him and that 'look at the time we're off to another bar.' We picked up our purses to make a quick exit, started to turn and heard 'wait.... would you girls like to go to another bar with us?' Us meaning 'shorty & co.'
We politely declined. This led to a confrontation over where we were headed. But, standing under the shadow of a persistent and potentially crazy giant, we threw out 'Off the Wagon' random. We had no intention of going to Off the Wagon, we're just looking for a near by haven with lots traffic to and fro... and thus, lots of witnesses.
Shorty/Geoffrey then decided it was time to insult our choice of venue. He gave a passionate reprimand on how Down the Hatch (same vibe and management as Off the Wagon) is the obvious only decision.
This time we allowed him to revel in our ''ignorance'' and when he turned to the bartender to close his tab, we fled.... to Off the Wagon as we figured if nothing else, crazy-tall-guy was too proud to back down and be be seen there.
No clue if it was the testosterone, the competitive sports vibe or a chemical imbalance... but I've learned to shut my mouth during sporting events and hope for first downs not first dates.
