we walk in and the bartender immediately shouts my name, and tells me that "my boys" had been rowdy the previous weekend (paddy also happens to be a dear friend of my current roommate, and the two are incorrigible carousers who had just launched a two-month bender). FIRST FAIL: I NOW SEEM LIKE A RAGING ALCOHOLIC.
so i'm drinking my beer, dying slowly of disinterest, thinking about all of the errands i have to run the next day, when the bartender comes from around the bar on his way to have a smoke. "hey, you left something last time you and paddy were here. remember when i had that polaroid behind the bar? here!" and he hands over one of the most drunken and admittedly precious photos of me and another person ever taken. FUCK. SECOND FAIL: SECOND DATE GUY LOOKS LIKE SOMEONE JUST HIT HIM. THIRD FAIL: I REMEMBER THAT MONTHS EARLIER I USED TO ENJOY PADDY'S COMPANY AND GET A TAD REFLECTIVE. THIS IN TURN PARALYZES ME AND WE ALL STARE AT ONE ANOTHER FOR ABOUT THIRTY SECONDS.
i'm in panic mode. bartender has his smoke and second date guy is all, "who's that with you in the picture?" and i'm all, "did you know that this bar was named after swift the writer? i loved gulliver's travels." and in my HEAD i'm all, "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK" and "did swift even WRITE gulliver's travels?" i bullshit my way through the rest of the date and explain that i have to head home once my beer is finished.
the date had died long before we had arrived at that bar, but i hadn't been prepared for anything so soul-crushing. it was my first second date in a while and i wondered, "are they all going to be this bad?"
