Here's some stuff:
I attended a wedding this weekend, and I discovered the place that's more embarrassing than being seated at the singles table. It's being the only male seated at the spouse table, as in, you're at a table compromised entirely of the girlfriends and wives* of the groomsmen. I wonder who's girlfriend people thought I was?
Speaking of groomsmen and acting like a girl, I had a thought mid-wedding. Aside from my brother, and Justin (Who is most likely whom everyone assumed I was the girlfriend of) -- I have no idea whom my groomsmen would be. Years back, I would've had a roster-full of choices, but time and many burnt bridges later, the number has dwindled. Though I've been assured this is just a natural stage of growing-up (Which we all know I hate), it still troubles me. I mean, it's not like I'm going to be able to woo them over with the promise of a grand groomsmen gift, I'll have spent all the money recreating the clock tower, and hiring Christopher Lloyd to officiate. Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. Maybe I need to find a girl who is willing to spend more than a couple of months with me.
Though, the main issue just might be getting a girl to spend more than a couple of minutes with me, of which I am seem to be subconsciously opposed to, as evidenced by this recent encounter:
SETTING: The overcrowded Green Mill bar
(Josh sidles up to the bar, in between two patrons. His body language favors the attractive female)
JOSH. Excuse me, I hope you don't mind me being awkward for a couple of minutes.
(Attractive Female looks up, and smiles)
ATTRACTIVE FEMALE. Not at all.
(Josh orders his beer)
ATTRACTIVE FEMALE. You're not being awkward, you're thirsty. Nothing wrong with that.
JOSH. Exactly! See. You get it. You know what's going on.
ATTRACTIVE FEMALE. Oh, I get it. I mean, I'm sitting at a bar all by myself.
JOSH'S BRAIN. Whoa! Josh! You fool! Hold the eff on! This girl might be dropping hints! That seemed like a hint!
JOSH'S SELF-DOUBT. Are you sure Brain? We've been burned before by more obvious hints than that.
JOSH'S BRAIN. Fine, don't believe me (Brain slips Self-Doubt a piece of paper) Say this. If she is into you at all, it'll be obvious.
JOSH'S SELF-DOUBT. Are you sure?
JOSH'S BRAIN. It's fool proof!
(Josh's beer is delivered.)
JOSH. So, thank you for letting me invade your personal space.
ATTRACTIVE FEMALE. (Smiling bigger still) Anytime.
(Noticeably long pause)
JOSH. Well...see you later!
FIN
The wedding was located in St. Paul, and there was a three-hour break between ceremony and reception. I used that time to explore St. Paul, by foot, because I refused to pay fifteen dollars for parking cause of something called "hockey" The results of my findings? St. Paul sucks. Except for Alary's.
Whenever I finish reading a book, I spike it, as if it were an adversary that I just vanquished. I'm not sure when this started, probably when it took me a couple of months to finish a Harry Potter. Anyhow, lately, I've been finishing a number of books at the gym (I credit my ability to slay a book a week to my reading while doing my forty-five on the elliptical. And yeah, yeah, haters -- not a proper work-out, well, eat me, I've lost weight and can now say I'm well-read without feeling shameful) Spiking a book in public doesn't work as well as it does in the privacy of our own home, so if I do end up finishing a book in public, I "accidentally" drop it instead. It isn't nearly as satisfying.
Quantum of Solace is not The Dark Knight to Casino Royale's Batman Begins. It also could've used more chase sequences. Cars, boats, planes, and pedestrian did not fully satisfy my chasing needs. There's still trains.
7:22 performed another set last night, and let's just say it wasn't one of our finest. Two showers later, I can still feel it on me.
Now, off to more adventures!
*And one mother.
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