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.