Wednesday, June 02, 2004

Mr. Popular

So I went with fellow campaigner and FC's boyfriend, and FC's housemate to a dive bar/sports bar. Said bar, Sliders, was not playing game 6 of the Eastern Conference Playoffs, instead each TV was tuned to the Teen Choice Awards--primarily to capture the undulations of Britney. I arrived early, and asked that they turn one tv to the playoffs. The moderately attractive bartender/barmaid...female person serving alcoholic beverages complied. So far a fine evening.

FC arrived with FCB (fellow campaigner's boyfriend). We sat and began conversation. Fairly early on it came to be known that I was the only one at the table for whom politics had long been a passion. I was "Mr. obsessed with politics." Seems about right. Pleasant conversation, cheap beers, a shot of tequilla. Life is fine.

FCH (fellow campaigner's housemate arrives). Apparently, I learn later, though suspected all along, I was being set up with FCH. FCH is pretty nice, intelligent, more than just a little political, and truly obsessive about Pearl Jam. A pretty solid conversation partner. She has been to every Pearl Jam concert I've ever been to. Sorta eerie. She knows the umbrella "wash" woman from the Pittsburgh concert(whom she informs me, is a real bitch). She's been to 57 PJ concerts. "Though only in the US and Canada," she laments.

As the evening progresses folks leave to smoke in packs. I am left with FC and then later with FCB alone at the table. The first "alone" time is with FC. This leads to discussion of the nature of relationships, and suffice to say, the conversation gets a bit strange and uncomfortable quite quickly. Though I attribute most of this to alcohol. I spend time explaining the joy of being with FCB, of having a relationship...down playing the appeal of others. Alcohol makes people blurt out what they'd normally hold close or ignore, so I don't take anything from the conversation. Later FCB and I sit and talk. He's psyched that I've found a pickup frisbee game. He's a real outdoorsy kind of guy, and has played some informal disc. So he's excited to find a place to play.

I am apparently interesting, or at least novell. It becomes clear that for this night, and maybe only this night, I am the belle of the ball. I'm the most interesting person (there) to each of them (they each know the others so well that I'm new and "special.") It's all very flattering, but sorta strange. I have no experience with this feeling. So after a few beers, a shot of tequilla and something called a Jaeger bomb (jaeger and red bull), I leave. "Always leave them wanting more..." How very odd.

Good news. I know people in Ft. Collins...and really no bad news. FC is nice, FCB is nice and eager to play frisbee, and FCH is pretty cool, too. I finally know people my age, and there was promise of a trivial pursuit party. Which party may see the end of Aaron's allure, as I tend to be fairly cut-throat and more than just a bit decent at the game. But who knows. So ends the report of Aaron's meagre social life.

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