Tuesday, June 20, 2006

My Summer Job: Swooped

My mother tells me my standards are too high. My friends tell me mine are too low.

As far as women go, Casanova I am not. For better or for worse about every 3 months I meet a girl who I determine is the girl for me. In between and after, I'm pretty much a party boy. I have zero control over it. There is zero pattern. I wish I could figure out exactly what I'm drawn to about each of these girls- but there is no real common trait other than their innate ability to hold my interest.

Enter Abby. Abby is the girl everyone has their eye on. Cute, funny, witty- if you have a free moment you want to be around her. It so happens that I spent my first two weeks as a camp counselor with her- at first shadowing and then I became her "Co" or specific co-counselor.

Abby and I got along well. Feeling eachother out, our banter was at first light, but once we realized we shared the same screwed up sense of humor- things clicked. Being a pretty straightforward guy, I figured I'd ask her to go out with me. So, after a day ushering around kids, I did- dinner and ice skating. She said yes. Not a super enthusiastic yes, but a yes nonetheless. I'm terrible at reading women, so maybe on the inside she was jumping for joy, but I took it for what it was: not a no.

Then things started to get complicated. Enter Justin. Justin and I had gotten along really well at camp. We both shared a general cynical sense of humor about the job (even though we both liked it) and we had some common background. One of these shared backgrounds was hockey and it just so happened that when I was talking with Abby about skating he happened to overhear. Now I'll never know how much of the conversation he heard, (although judging from what has happened since, I'd guess alot) but it was enough for him to assume that this was more a work get together and less a date. Now being a total idiot, I didn't have the sense to tell him off- he was a nice guy, I didn't want to seem like a jerk.

So the night of our date arrived, I hadn't heard from Justin. That is until I pulled into the parking lot of the ice rink, where immediately my phone rang. I saw the number and cursed. A lot. I picked it up, Justin was on the line, on his way down, excited to be skating. I was fuming. In my head I was screaming "TELL HIM OFF YOU MORON" but I couldn't. So my date became a threesome, with another guy. To say I was not happy might be the understatement of the century.

The three of us walked over to my favorite Mexican dive restaurant and for a moment I thought I might be saved from a very unlikely source. As soon as we were done eating and Justin was done regaling us with stories of his mansion on a mountain, my good buddy Tim called Justin. Tim had the tact to explain to Justin what was going on and plan of sorts was hatched. Tim would come down and meet Justin and the two of them would take off together to go plan a party for later that evening. So as we left the mexican restaurant I was reasonably optimistic I could take the date from wreck to passable. As it turned out it went from wreck to just above catastrophic proportions.

To be continued...


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