Thursday, March 17, 2011

You Can Touch But You Can't Taste (Part Two)

First note: THANK YOU for your positive responses to the first part of the story. I actually thought that, after reading it over the first time, it was too boring for my blog :P.

Second note: I SWEAR I will get back to putting up posts on new music and old math soon enough. Just bear with me a lil' bit as I take a side journey into funny storytelling land. 

Third note: I also promise that I will a) get my guest posts done (even if it takes me until summer!) and b) recognize and respond to all the memes/awards that have been sent my way. Keep the blog love strong.

Alright, so back to your regular programming. Where was I? Oh yes, end of the first night.

I wish I could say that Bright took over every one of my thoughts and dreams after that night, but I have to be honest with you. Nope. She was a drop in the ocean of new people that I kept meeting every day at college. I barely could keep track of them all, regardless of their physical beauty. I even would forget the names of my three roommates on occasion. I can blame alcohol but I think my general distracted-ness is to blame. 

Fast forward a week after that first night to one of those "freshmen only" social events. This is generally a social meeting of some sort attempting to get more freshmen to meet one another and promote "class unity". Lured by the offer of free dinner, and free food usually can get me to do many many things, I was present at said event. The buffet table was already swarmed by a tremendously long line that immediately damped my enthusiasm for any type of class love. Bitches were taking my food...I didn't want to be friends with people who took my food. Yet I wasn't to walk all the way back to my dorm without a full stomach so I just planted myself at the back of the line. While I was conversing with my grumbling stomach, telling it to "chill out" and it telling me to "STFU You", I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Hey! Remember me?"
Ummm sorry, I feel really bad 
"Riooooo, you were supposed to teach me how to dance. Like an engineer! Remember now?"
Holy crap, BRIGHT! How you been?
"Pretty awful, considering you didn't remember me!" (fake yet sexy scowl)

As we were catching up, I was beating myself up in my mind. Picture a bear mauling anything not bear-like - with blood, intestines, and people screaming everywhere. That was pretty much what my penis what was doing to my memory, with the promise of a "hell you don't even dare imagine" if this slip-up in face-name recognition cost me bed time with Bright. Again, I was hoping that my charm was in the "on" position or that it existed in the first place. 

"I had lots of fun that one night, we should hang out again"
Where did you go? I mean, we got a little worried about where you girls had gone.
"OMG! I am SO sorry about that! [her third friend] had found a guy that she knew with weed, and we got like totally high...we completely forgot about you guys"
No shame, I got SR home okay so it wasn't a problem at all.
"I hear about that, that was really nice of you. Most guys would have tried to pull a move on some girl they walked home."

Oh, the things I do for pretty girls. If it had been anyone else, I probably wouldn't have accepted that excuse. So you were getting high and you forgot about us? What the frick? Of course all these arguments and protests went scurrying away when I got to look at her face and her behind once again. DA-YUM GIRLLLL. That is all that really had to be said about her booty. Yes, I called her gluteus maximus her booty. Also in the category of "what she didn't know" was that had SR shown any signs of being into me, I probably would made a move. I know what you are thinking right now.

Freaking awesome, ridiculously attractive male.

I really hope it is the third option. In my very poor defense, I was 18 years old and horny enough to ram into any female that didn't make my eyes bleed and gave me a shot at sex. Nowadays, I am 22 and still very sexually *ahem* motivated, but I have (I hope) some more maturity and tact when it comes to what I will and will not for getting laid. Fortunately for all parties involved, SR didn't give off any signs of wanting to get me into bed, and I did not feel brave or badass enough to make a move without any type of lead-ins. Now back to Bright.

"We really need to hang out sometime"
Obviously, I am a party in myself. Care to switch numbers?
"Sure, text me and I'll let you know where we can go party."

I had the digits, and I had her name saved electronically. We had established that we would be "hanging out", whatever that meant, soon. Now I had no excuse whatsoever to back down. It was game time, baby, win big or go home. 

Now you might be thinking that I was just looking for a quick slam-bam-thank you ma'am. That was the original goal at first sight, but intelligent conversation did have that harmful effect on my "player" motivations. This girl was cool. She was smart, funny, sarcastic, and best of all, found me funny and interesting. Clearly, she had great taste in men and who was I to deny her my company? She was pretty much the awesome girlfriend package, walking around on MY campus. The time had come to switch to the big guns (kisses the biceps). I kid, I am not particularly athletic and my "guns" are more like water pistols :P.

Let the waiting game begin. I could not text her often or use lengthy texts. The last thing I wanted to come across as was a) creepy, b) pushy, c) all of the above. Personal comment, in current time, I really hate that. I hate having to cut off my normal friendly, open self for the sake of creating a need for her to contact me. I also I am a fan of telephone calls. But no, our generation is not "used" to talking on the phone, it is too "intrusive". I am rolling my eyes right now. Anyways, I waited for the weekend, and restrained myself from texting her during the week.

While I waited, I kept meeting new people, made new friends, and most of all (for this story) was a good listener. I mention good listening because I was hearing the some interesting things about Bright. Yes, indeed, the girl was did Nelly Furtado put it? Oh yea, a maneater. Not that she had hooked up/sexed up/done the dirty with anyone, oh no. Even worse, or better for me, not one guy had had any luck with her. The girl was attracting guys left and right, but none, I say none, had gotten so much as a kiss on the cheek from her. Let's quickly introduce Startup and JSoc. 

Startup is called that, well, simply because he started his own company. He graduated early and is now off doing whatever young business owning 20-somethings are doing with their lives. Startup was/is a great guy, absolutely honest and down-to-earth. Not to mention he was tall and was fit from all the years of basketball he had played in high school. My point is, he was a dude that could pull his weight when it came to the opposite sex. Startup told me, as we watched the Boondock Saints in his room (typical guy bonding movie) that he had been talking with a girl and she had quote "came in drunk to his room one night where she talked to me for over an hour and was extremely flirty and then left when I thought we could do something". Her name? Yep that was Bright.

JSoc was my main engineering friend. We met the first day of classes and immediately connected over the basic things in life - our love of soccer, our choice of major, and our undying interest in the attractive women of the world. I was still coming out of my awkward, arrogant, nerdy phase brought on by high school and he was my suave guy friend that took it upon himself to "show me the ropes" or whatever it is called. Being nerdy is not a bad thing, but it can be a handicap when trying to relate to someone who doesn't know anything about the bands you like to listen to, the cool sci-fi movies you like, or the exciting computer games you love to sit and play for hours. JSoc, on his part, had none of these problems. The guy was born to charm. He had the swag, he had the talk, and most of all - the man was reckless. He used to joke that his theme song in high school was Run It by Chris Brown due to these very obvious lyrics.

Is your man on the floor?
If he ain't, let me know
'Cuz you see I can run it, run it
Girl, believe I can run it, run it

Mr JSoc, his dad, used to be a car salesman before owning several successful car dealerships. This is only important to my description of JSoc simply to prove that he was born and bred to flirt. His father was a born convincer, a natural at the gift of gab and no one was safe from his friendly yet so god damn believable chatter. I probably would have bought several cars from him had I had the money to do so. 

Okay, tangent over and description done. JSoc is important to my pursuit of Bright because he was a critical piece in the puzzle. He had known Bright the longest. To be specific, he had known her since their freshmen year in high school since they went to neighboring schools. What was his relationship like to Bright? If you are very sharp and you have immediate suspicion towards pretty girls, then you could probably guess what was up. He, too, was attracted hopelessly to our lovely lady.

He had been pursuing her since his senior year. And oh, how he had pursued. His tales of what he did and what he has done (up until recently) for her attentions could easily fill a dozen or more blog posts. But is not my place to talk about his adventures, I can only speak for myself. He should start a blog for himself, I am sure it would be highly entertaining. 

With all this in mind, I was beginning to get worried of how I was going to continue my interactions with this so-called impossible goal, this kryponite to every good looking guy in her way. What did she see in me? How was I, Andres Rio, going to succeed where everyone else had so clearly and obviously failed? And then it appeared.

{text} "Hey, are you going to the Pajama Party tonight? It sounds like it will be a lot of fun :P"
I might swing by for a bit, that sounds like a good theme for a party
"great, see you then"

The stage was set folks. Next up: the pajama party, rawr. Hope you are ready.