Thursday, September 13, 2012

This is a narrative about a man who wanted to show his prowess as a wingman...

...even if it was against my will. No this has nothing really to do with Starcraft, but I had so many people asking for this story, I said "screw it" and typed it up. Enjoy the painful awkwardness that is to ensue.

Cue that soft, sweet, romantic music that is actually just screaming “f*** you” subtly in the background. This is one of those stories that you hear about happening to your friend’s friends and always think, “Dang, that guy is so lucky.” Well, being in that situation myself now, I don’t necessarily feel all that lucky. I mean, it’s not really bad, persay, but it has definitely caught me off guard at an interesting time.
Now before I actually tell you this story, I want to establish something. I would almost bet money that you saw this document and thought, “Really? An entire word document? I think that is a bit much Ben…” I did try texting this story to someone earlier, and after about 16 pages of text, I gave up and called them to tell the rest of the story. If you really want to enjoy this, just go through it. Not sold? Okay, here’s the TL;DR. You’re call whether to keep going.
·        Me: Did that all seriously happen?
·        Keegan: Yes
·        Me: This all just seriously just happened?
·        Keegan: Yes you have a date Friday with the girl you deemed hot. Wouldn’t lie to ya.
·        Keegan: You’re welcome Felix J
Let’s be honest, the fact that I have a date is strange enough. (Yes, take a moment to laugh, screw you too.) But life is all about the story. So, enough stalling, time for me to really start typing.
I have been going to Pie Wednesday in such a devout manner that I have not missed a single Wednesday that I have been in town for for four years. I freaking love me some pie. That aside, I naturally know the waiting staff pretty well by face, if not by name. So when Keegan leaned over to me and asked, “is she new?” I knew the answer.
“The girl is the bright green shirt? Ya she is.” It was pretty hard to miss her. She was pretty tall for a girl, wearing a neon green shirt, and standing right at the front next to the counter.
“Do you think she’s cute?”
“Ya, she is pretty cute.” And folks, if you know Keegan… well, that was all he needed to hear.
The next hour consisted of what I am fairly certain is treading the legal line of torture. Everyone at the table would take part in talking loudly about the cute waitress Ben liked as waiters passed by our table, including a couple of times said cute waitress passed by the table. Martina, our weekly Pie waitress, was waaay too amused by all this, and Keegan made sure to that she knew exactly what was going on. The most awkward point of this part of the story was when my ex-girlfriend started joining in on all of this. I’m not a blusher, but I would be lying if I tried to tell you that most of my evening wasn’t spent with my beat red face in my hands. I was laughing, but still embarrassed.
This story wouldn’t be a good story if it ended right there. In fact, it would have probably been for the best if it had. That, of course, is not the case. I had an evening commitment to make, not to mention my face was about to set alight, so I figured it was a decent time to leave. But first things first! I had drank a lot of coffee.
And a quick segue*. That was an amazing piss. For those of you who don’t know me all that well, coffee is my cigarettes and alcohol. It’s my anti-depressant, it’s my relaxation pill, my pain medication. Life has been weird as it is, but when you stack a night like I was having on top, I was needing a lot of my meds. Coffee in, coffee out. And out. And out. And like a responsible citizen, I washed my hands afterward, having to wait in line behind a father and his four young boys. Now you may be wondering, why this is so important, why must I continue to ramble on about my glorious piss? Because it bought the Pie table time. To be more specific, it gave Keegan the time he needed to take care of business.
While I was merrily relieving myself, Keegan was chatting up a storm with the hostess, Taylor.
Wait, did I say chatting? I meant plotting. Definitely meant plotting.
I come out of the bathroom feeling better and a little bit cleaner, and do a quick scan of the are—OH CRAP WHERE’S KEEGAN AND ADAM!? Taylor is shooting me these really funny encouraging looks, and nodding her head towards the cute waitress. I have to wrap around near the front counter to get my bill from the table, and as I pass by, Taylor says, “You should totally do it.”
And I felt my face flush. “What the fuck happened?” I asked Adam when I got back to the table.
“I’ll tell you in the car.” He responds.
“No seriously, what the fuck is going on.” I look over at Keegan and the kid is practically bouncing. The smile he was wearing probably ripped some sort of muscle in his face.
“Just talk to her,” he says. “Ask her out, there’s nothing wrong with that!”
At this point I am thinking that dine and dash is a pretty viable option, seeing as cute waitress is standing, you guessed it! Right at the front. Right next to where Keegan was talking to Taylor, right next to Taylor when she was encouraging me to “totally do it.” But I know Village Inn pretty well- again, 4 years. And there is only one viable exit that won’t get me kicked out of the restaurant. That exit, of course, is right out the front door, past Taylor, escorted by Keegan, right past cute waitress girl.
I walk up to the front counter head down with that desperate, “don’t look don’t look don’t look” attitude, but like we all know at this point, this doesn’t work, because Keegan is on a mission, and he now has support from another employee. As I am paying I get multiple more encouragements from Taylor, who is speaking loudly enough for cute waitress girl to hear, who is now a little curious as to what is going on.
I am now really close to leaving. I am soooo close. I was trying to get out so much that I accidentally tipped Martina twice, but if it got me out faster, I really didn’t care. I turn away from the counter, I take my first step towards the door…
“Just ask her!” Apparently Keegan decided enough was enough with the subtleties.
Another couple steps towards the door.
“Seriously, you should do it!” Taylor this time. Cute waitress girl is about 3 feet behind and to my left. At this point, there is no denying what exactly is going on, and it was only going to be a few seconds before cute waitress pieced it all together, because she was the only one who seemed to not know what was going on, and there was a super embarrassed, exceedingly handsome, dashing young man walking towards the door (I lol’ed writing that part. Needed some stress relief here, this story isn’t done yet.)
I turn around to face everyone all at once- Taylor, Keegan, Adam right behind him, and of course, cute waitress. Ashley. Her name tag says Ashley.
“I think we’ll give you two some alone time.” Keegan and Adam walk out. This will be the first time in the night that my jaw drops and that befuddled, “ahh… uhh…” sound comes out of my mouth. Ashley, the cute waitress, now has the perfect “wtf?” face on and timidly asks, “Whaaat’s going on…?”
Well, all bets are off now. I just walk out, I look like an ass. I stay for more than 10 seconds, I’ll sound like an ass. Your call, Ben…
“Apparently our friends are trying to hook us up.” A simple, blanket statement. Smart, right?
“Ya…” Several awkward seconds pass. Taylor now has the same muscle ripping smile Keegan had.
Oh crap, my brain is starting to engage. GTFO!!! “You have a nice day. Maybe I’ll see you around,” I said with a small smile, and with a nod of my head I’m off.
This should be the end of the story. Ashley won’t work any more Wednesdays, I don’t have time to go to Village Inn on any other normal day of the week, and by the time that random happenstance kicked in, Ashley would have forgotten me.
But by now you know that, had that been the end of this story, it wouldn’t have made a very good tale except for that, “Ya, I almost asked a waitress out one time, but I blew it” story that you tell a couple years from now over a couple of drinks with the guys.
               That is not the end of this story though. Because after I left, more plans were hatched, for Keegan hadn’t left yet. I am driving down the interstate and I get a call from Keegan.
“Hey, what program are you in at UNO right now?”
“Well, I am technically in the vocal performance program right now.” Then the brain kicks in. CRAP! “Why do you—“
“So he’s in the voc-“*click. Phone hangs up.
I turn to Adam. “What the fuck just happened.” He just starts laughing. The phone is plugged in to the car, so he hears everything. “Seriously, what the fuck is going on??”
Another minute of this ensues before I get another call from Keegan.
“What are you doing Friday night?”
“I… I work until 8…”
“Perfect, you’ve got a dinner at 8:30 at Cheddars! Can you make that?”
My jaw drops. I try to vocalize, but everything comes out in sputters and derps.
Cue Wingman #2 of the night: Adam. “Yes! Yes he can!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yup!” Adam replies. I try to say something, but am overlapped by, “Hush Ben, I’m speaking for you.” (For those of you who may know the reference, think Team4Star.)
“Alright, don’t stand her up! Have fun!” *click*
Speechless. Absolutely, utterly speechless.
Again, the story could have ended here, and now it would have been a fairly worthy story. But no, there is a little more yet. The reason I was driving was because I was going to UNO for something. Adam was with me. So syllogistically speaking (think the transitive property in math): I am driving, Adam is with me, Adam is not driving, Adam doesn’t have his car with him. Adam’s car is at Village Inn still, and I have to take him back to get it.
Well, let’s think nothing of it, eh? It’s no problem. Adam is coming to the apartment afterward to play some good ol’ classic Halo, and we’re pretty stoked. So we get to Village Inn and we both hop out of the car because we’re in the middle of a conversation. Walking towards his car, he looks over and says, “Hey, isn’t that Ashley?”
Okay, that’s just too perfect. I call BS on him. “No, really,” he continues. “She’s washing the doors. Look it’s opening now!” Village Inn is lined with windows, and it’s entrance is two sets of glass doors. I look over and…
“OH SHIT!” I dive back over to my car and hop in. I can already hear Adam laughing as he grabs a piece of paper, writes down my name and number, and gives it to her.
And that, for the most part, is all the story I have for you. We’ve been texting back and forth for a bit now. She added me on Facebook, which gave me a chance to find out as much as possible before a potential date. And I have, for all intents and purposes, a blind date with my waitress. Normally that implies you don’t know who you’re going with, but I think this situation is close enough.
Let’s say that again. I, Benedict “Coffeebreak” Rasmussen, the introverted nerd, who spends his free time programming and, not playing video games, but talking in-depth about them, have a blind date.
Considering I literally choke when talking to girls I already know… well, this should be interesting.
Of course, more details to follow if the date goes through.

*I now realize the irony of taking a line to inform the audience of a segue. Segue: Move without interruption from one… scene to another.