...And Then Everything Went Horribly, Horribly Wrong

And I noticed it - which means that, what? - I haven't been happy? I feel pretty good considering all the stress I'm under - divorce, refi, newish job, lots of money going out, moving back into the house and assessing the damage. Major life changes, all of them. But last night I was blissful. And here's how it went down:

Around 8:30 my friend N called - she of the AA who now has decided that AA is not for her. (Who am I to say anything? It's her life.) Anyhoo, she was seeing this crunchy rockabilly band with a girlfriend of hers who was there to set up N with the bass player. So already we're guaranteed some excitement, right, b/c there might be a love connection.

Turns out...there was. It had to be the sweetest thing I've ever seen. The bass player (we'll call him BP) is a bit shy, but he made it to our table and did the small-talk thing with N. He was very funny, very bright. Told a story from a Christmas party he played where the boss got up and made a speech that gave new meaning to the words "long-winded." Described the partygoers as having "lost their will to live" because the pontificating went on so long. So of course, I immediately approved of him. Ah wit, it's such an aphrodisiac. (Which explains why I find Dave Attell slightly hot. Help me.)

Anyhoo, so the rest of the night N and BP kept looking at each other from across the crowded bar. It was just adorable. Her only problem with him is that he's about 5'5. She's like 5'3, but still, a girl needs heels! I suggested that she strap on the platforms and carry him around in a backpack, wherever she wants to go. Plus, I offered, short men probably have big thick willies. Am I wrong? No matter - she liked him, he liked her, and a double-date is impending. Other good news about BP - he gave up drinking a year ago, so N might have some support for sticking with her sobriety.

Back to the happiness. The band was terrific. Really, really good. Half the bartenders from the local faux-punk bar that I previously mocked were there, all smug b/c the musicians called out to them from the stage. A little shout-out to so-and-so from the XXX. (I can't name said bar b/c I really do like it, and if anyone is a local I don't need the grief!) There were two guys who didn't leave our table for like an hour. Serious dork-patrol but initially showed at least some conversational potential. One guy N described as "really cute until he opened his mouth." He kept hitting on me, which was a little odd at first...I didn't get it... He told me I was beautiful, and then "really good-looking for 33" - what's that??? And then he started in with "so what's your story?" and finally, "are you single?" I wasn't playing along. I don't need some swollen Jay Mohr broadcasting the "fuck me" eyes right after he tells me how much he likes watching "Wings" at 4 in the morning. Yes, "Wings." He had been saying how much he liked David Cross and Mr. Show and Tenacious D, and then - whammo! - WINGS. Yeah, not so much.

The crowd was, um, diverse, to say the least. Lots of rockabilly dudes with cowboy hats and vintage button-downs, and lots of punk chicks with strappy dresses in cheap fabrics, black hair and tattoed calves. Huh? There was also a strange metal-type crowd. About 3 guys with shaved heads and pointy beards with surprisingly bland girlfriends. Fat girls in flannel. Seriously. And of course, there was a smattering of more conservative types who looked like they would hang out watching the band, and enjoy themselves, but then hide it from their friends. "Oh, yeah, Sunday night I went to Chili's and closed down the bar! You should have seen it - Rick did three kamikazes in a row and then ordered potato skins for everyone!"

Ooh, friend L just called and asked if I want to fly to Vegas to see the Hives on the 15th. Hate Vegas, don't like the Hives, but L's got a local boy toy (no, not the Hessian) who likes to spoil her and said if we come up he'll foot the bill! My favorite - Vegas for free!

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I was happy. Supremely content. N was all tingly and glowly, watching her Pocket Boyfriend across the bar, N's friend was incredibly sweet - a really nice girl, I had been complimented by some dudes and I wasn't parked on my sofa feeling sorry for myself.

As I have said before, sometimes, life is grand.

OH! OH! OH! There was this couple in front of us who, um, forgot that they weren't alone in the bar...the girl was wearing - get this - a feather boa, a short skirt and black thigh-high stockings and the three of us girls were treated to their sex show as he slid his hand up her leg, over her knee, slowly, slowly up the thigh and then she leaned back and...oh my gawd. We were like "HEY - WE CAN SEE YOU!" It was such a train wreck. First of all, her outfit had to be a dare, or a special treat for her boyfriend. I hope that wasn't her idea of acceptable Sunday-night attire. Second, we watched as he rubbed his fingers on his lips afterward! Auuugh! It was such porn! Third, I've never seen anything like that in real life. Especially not 10 feet in front of me. It's one thing to fool around like that, it's another to WITNESS IT. We felt sullied.

And before that, there was another couple seated directly in front of us who were shamelessly canoodling. I felt a bit jealous, I guess. It was obvious that the guy was into this girl and he was playing with her hair and kissing her neck and I remembered my own serious lack of romance - both presently and in past relationships. I am such a straightforward chick that I either A) don't attract the kind of guys who canoodle with girls, or B) don't inspire that in them. I was watching this documentary with the Puppy about how Kevin Smith made Clerks and they mentioned how Kennedy from MTV was at the screening and they were so excited. The Puppy said, "I never got her - she wasn't that clever. She was just a wanna-be Alisa."

A comment like that really sums it up, doesn't it? Paints me as the kind of chick who inspires romance in a guy... Yeah, date THAT.