I had seen this whole schtick before. He was pretty good. The 'hippo' comment was a bit much, but I really don't like that girl anyways. As this guy stood here looking at me with that smirk on his face, I wondered what made him different from any other guy on any of the weekends that I go out. I guess, if anything, it was a Thursday. Must be quite the guy to be out drinking with his buddies on a Thursday...
"That was pretty smooth. Do you practice that in front of a mirror?" I think I stunned him a bit. After Nikki and Mel ran away so easily, he was probably expecting me to be a pushover, too.
"What's your move now? Dance? Grab me a drink? Or you just want to get straight to it?" He stood there a bit dumbfounded, which I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed.
"You're sharp. You have guys coming up to you every night you go out. You hear the same old lines night in and night out. You're looking for someone who can keep up with you. Someone who realizes you're not just a hot body but a girl who tends to be the smartest person in the room - just nobody knows it. But you're looking at me, wondering if I'm a bit more than some cheesy lines with my buddies."
Wow. So much for him being stunned. That's more blunt, more honest, than any of the guys I usually end up talking to. Sort of refreshing to hear. But of course I couldn't let him know that. "You're my therapist now? Let's start with the drink."
It was my last year in college. I'd had an awful lot of flings, but nothing I'd considered serious. I just couldn't put up with the dumb jocks, as cliche as that sounds. The smart kids were no better; they had the spine of a jellyfish. At times I considered that maybe I'm a bit too harsh, but I had big plans, and I needed someone who could keep up with that.
After the bluntness, his smirk returned. We walked around the house, found some watered down beer, and attempted to find a quiet corner. I'll admit, he intrigued me a bit. But that too could have been a well timed line. I wanted to get the opportunity to talk to him a bit more. See if he was up to snuff.
But of course, it was not to be. Nikki came sprawling in, her hair somehow wet, and on further inspection, the front of her dress was soaked too. Weirdly, the guy who had gone off with Nikki, Matt I think, was not the guy with her now, but the other friend. He mumbled something about Matt causing trouble, barely audible over Nikki's blubbering herself. She was a sweetheart, but such a princess sometimes. I
went to comfort Nikki as this mysterious Mike Schmidt ran off to backup his buddy. And that was that. I had to take Nikki home.
I was a winner then, I'm a winner now. Can't you tell?