Outfit: great butt jeans with a classy but slinky red top. I applied my makeup on the bus ride there.
He looked normal here...but in person was much different!
Plan: French bistro Du Vin for a drink or two before meeting up with friends for karaoke.
Outcome: I'll start by saying this was the Tracher from last week. I was running late, arrived to find that he wasn't even there yet...so he was even later than I was! He showed up as my first drink did, and I shit you not, looked like a guy from Jersey Shore; white v-neck, gold chain, khakis, super tan with a military-short haircut.
Forever the optimist, I proceeded to invite conversation through thoughtful questions. There were awkward silences of not knowing what else to talk about. There was the uncomfortable moment when he said he had already ate (it was 6:30pm), which banished me to only an alcoholic dinner. There were also plenty of moments in this cozy and intimate place where he did full body scans of every woman that walked by, including all of the servers.
Then there was the check...thank goodness he paid for it, but to get the server's attention, he thrust his card at her as she was busily moving past. She had definitely ignored us a bit too long, but still. It lacked class. Check paid and bladder bursting, he offered to walk me to my bus stop because he didn't want to go to karaoke (thank baby jesus). He suggestively escorted me to the stop, and within 5 minutes I had hopped on the first bus to anywhere. I couldn't stop laughing at how ridiculous it all was, and by the time I had gathered myself, I was already half way to Waikiki having to pee so bad I wasn't going to make it. I exited the bus early to hit up a Starbucks bathroom and waited an hour for my girlfriends to come and save me...or so I thought.
We definitely had a fun time being silly because my friends are fantastic, but the migraine I had struggled with all day got the better of me and I proceeded to be the Debbie Downer of the group, secretly praying that it would all end soon so I could go snuggle up with my ice pack in the fetal position. Instead, I chugged water as we hit a dive bar (that was actually super cool) filled with cigarette smoke (who smokes in bars anymore?!), followed by an extremely loud and rather dead bar playing Smashmouth at a deafening decibel. I spent the last hour of our night with my fingers in my ears watching my friend flirt with a guy off of Plenty of Fish that I had previously played off online. The irony of it all was pretty spectacular.
As the grand finale, I puked out of my friend's car door on the ride home down the H1 freeway. Migraines really cramp my style!
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