So, I spent my evening at the River Oaks Borders Books trying to pick up women.
It did not go well at all. Oh, it started well enough. I wandered around the store and found several books and magazines, but not much in the way of women, or at least, what seemed like single women. I mean, it went like sort of like this in my head:
Oh, she’s interesting…. And with her boyfriend or husband. Nice.
Oh, that one looks nice…. And she’s here with her mother! Doh! Say her mother’s not bad…. And there’s her husband. Great.
So I walked upstairs to the coffee shop and that’s when things took a terrible turn for the worse, if you can imagine that.
“I’ll have a medium of the Italian Roast and, um, a slice of that Bavarian Chocolate Cheesecake.”
“Ah, the cake of death.”
“‘Scuse me?”
“Oh, it’s just that it tastes like genocide.” Then the little, pseudo-beatnik laughed like I should get the joke.
“Not exactly the best way to sell this stuff, you know?” And, I laughed, because, well, c’mon. Genocide? I know it’s Bavarian and all, but, uh, that’s just ridiculous.
“Hey, we make it right here!”
“Yeah, dude, that’s not helping any.” Things did not improve from here.
So, I sat down with my little slice of Bavarian genocide and a steaming cup of Italian Fascism to browse my books and magazines to try and weed out what to buy and what to leave on the table for beatnik boy to clean up. Petty, I know, but, hey, I quit smoking last week, so, cut me some slack. One that went instantly into the Keep pile was The Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook: Dating and Sex. And, yes, the irony of finding that while totally failing at picking up women was not lost on me. I’m sure God was laughing when I picked it up. At least, someone was laughing. About the time I finished my death cake, an interesting lady was walking around the music section. At first, I thought she was someone I was familiar with from the blogoshpere. And, trust me on this, that’s a very, very good thing. As Cartman would say, “Hella hottie”. So, she wanders through and I keep an eye out for her to go introduce myself and, well, wing it. Honestly, it’s just now that I realized I had no where to go after “Hi, my name is Jim and…” Anyway, she starts to head down stairs and I start the same direction, right up until the point that she catches my eye, gets that panicked look and hurries away toward the far end of the store. Yeah, so… At this point, I’ve suddenly become a stalker if I follow her, so I head to the checkout line with my stuff and ask for the book I special ordered, Novell Open Enterprise Server Administrator’s Handbook, SUSE LINUX Edition. (Hey, look at the title of the blog, folks. This is what I do!) Only the girl can’t find it and asks the guy for help. He looks at me and says, “Oh, here this is him. I know his name. He’s a regular and special orders books from us all the time.” First I’m a stalker, now I’m a serial special orderer to the point that the staff know me by freaking NAME. Yeah, the book store is going to be a great place to meet women. Sure, right, great idea.
Right about this time I get the urge to turn around, you know, like someone is looking at me or something. Sure enough, there she is the girl I was going to introduce myself to is back there looking right at me, almost staring, while I checkout. Perfect. Wonderful. Shoot me now, please. Thanks.
So, then I’m driving home up 610 to 290 and listening to Brian Setzer Orchestra, The Ultimate Collection: Recorded Live, which is actually pretty hopping and has me driving a little fast. Of course, the Italian roast helped, too. And, I’m accelerating through traffic and it’s a little close, but I’m all hopped up on disappointment, chocolate and better than average coffee, so I put my V-8 engine with the police transmission on it to the test and slip through a tight gap in traffic. Now, considering some of the things that happened earlier in the week, you’d think I’d be driving more carefully, not less, but, no, that’s just not me.
Oh, and I should mention that work was, well, a little frustrating today, too. So, yeah, a little built up stress, just like the old days.
Man, I could use a smoke. Oh, right, I gave that up. Well, at least I still have the good Scotch. ‘Scuse me while I go self-medicate a bit and catch some sleep. I know it’s been more than ten years since I did this stuff, but, man, getting that first date sure seems hard these days. I think I’ll pour me a double.
