Monday, November 15, 2010

Beer-Goggled Bob

I wrote this about 3 1/2 years ago. The part in blue is from my former editor. I needed to hear some praise.

I love reading your stuff, always gives me a laugh and I needed one this morning, bit of a rough start……will be up on the site in a short while.

Tuesday, April 3, 2007

Beer-goggled Bob: A Survivor's Story

as told by Krankiboy

Yesterday evening my friend Bob (not me) found himself cabbing it back to the apartment of a woman he'd just met a few hours before. Normally this would have been a good thing, right? No. Not in this case. You see Bob had been drinking a bit and smoking a decent amount of le herb and he ended up sharing this cab at the request of the woman he'd met at his friend's dinner party. Once he got back to this woman's house and it's bright lighting he told me that the fog of the alcohol began to wear off and it slowly dawned on him that he most certainly did not want to fool around with this slightly older woman who was not at all his type in either the looks or personality department. She also had a totally stuffed nose and was sniffling constantly and wiping her nose with her hand. She clearly had some kind of full-on cold. She also had a less than melodious voice which she clearly liked to hear the sound of. Poor Bob, what an awkward predicament to have stupidly wandered into. Here are some of the things that slightly stone-toxicated Bob did at 2am to try and express his disinterest without hurting the woman's feelings... much.

1) Pretended to fall asleep on the couch when she went to get some water from the kitchen. Sadly she didn't let him sleep but instead woke him and insisted that they should go to her bed. Strike one, Bob.

2) Made a truly tremendous effort to get her cat to climb up on him to serve as a protective buffer from any sexual advances or physical encroachment. Bob is also allergic to cats so that says quite a lot to me about his desperation. The cat was irritatingly shy and never served as the feline shield that Bob so desperately needed. Strike two.

3) Fabricated an elaborate story about having feelings for their mutual friend to buy some time to think of another means of escape. Sadly, by this time, she had placed her legs on him. Not only were her legs over his lap but she seemed to be actually using a bit of force to hold him in place. That is how my pal Bob related the predicament to me. I can only repeat what he told me, right? In any event that was strike three.

After she picked up on his subtle hints of non-interest she suggested that they could just sleep in bed and she said "I promise not to attack you or anything." Bob decided this sounded reasonable and agreed. She had lied. Once Bob was resting peacefully on his side of the bed she almost immediately rolled over and attacked him. Bob informed me that she was a rather lousy kisser with dry lips and unshaven legs. That poor, stupid, bastard. Could it have gotten worse? How was Bob going to escape? What tale could he tell to make a speedy exit with his dignity still somewhat intact? Could he make it out without killing her, or even worse... having to continue kissing her.

Bob held totally still hoping to tap into his happy place. Maybe like T-Rex she could only see him if he moved. Maybe, like a grizzly bear, she'd leave him if he played dead. Just as he began to lose hope a brilliant escape plan began to form in his head with crystal clarity.

What magical words did Bob use that gave him his sweet freedom and a long fucking walk back home? Bob did the lamest acting of his life and, with as much conviction as he could muster, he said, "OH, darn! I just remembered... I have to be up early. I promised my mom that I'd drive her to church in the morning."

Somehow the hollow and pathetic lie had worked. Its stunning effect gave Bob the time he needed to confuse her long enough to allow him to make his escape. Bob quickly grabbed his vintage coat and hurriedly fled into the night. The cold crispness of the early morning air felt like a sweet homecoming against his face. He had cheated fate and lived to tell the tale (to me, his friend). Bob looked to the heavens as he began his dazed walk of shame and whispered a quick, pagan prayer to the gods for sparing him. I mean, I assume that's what he probably did. I only know what Bob told me. I wasn't there to know for sure.

Bob feels badly that he contributed to such an uncomfortable situation and has since promised me (several times) that he will exercise much greater caution in any and all future interactions where alcohol, marijuana and socializing are involved. I've known my friend Bob for a long time now and in my heart I truly believe that he has learned a valuable life lesson from this intense experience. I only hope you have too.

The Almost End...

The woman got hold of Bob's email through a third party and asked him out for the following Saturday Night.

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