Bartenders have always been my friends. They bring me beer. They’re usually friendly. They’re often times girls. Sometimes, they are friendly girls that bring me beer all in one. Recently, I ran into this rare species. Not only did she fit all of those characteristics, but she was pretty. We exchanged numbers before I left. When I came back a few days later, I found out that giving her my name, phone number, email address, and blog address was too much information. I remember thinking at the time that it may be a bit much. Oh well.
Despite this, she actually remembered me. Not only that but she had gone to see me do stand-up comedy the one Monday night I didn’t go. Well, now there’s no way that she believed that I did stand-up comedy. I told her I was doing it again that very night and she told me to text her right before I go on. I texted her, did my set, and she showed up right after I finished. Okay, there is no way she would believe me now. I would have to just be generally funny around her to maintain my aura of hilarity. Well that failed quickly.
I texted her a few days later, but got no response. Maybe I am going crazy and actually never did stand-up comedy; instead I told jokes in front of my closet mirror that doesn’t exist. I love you anyway, bartender lady.