No, he didn't have 7 children. No, he doesn't detest music... At least my knowledge. No, he isn't trying to run from the Nazis. It all started with a remark. A drunken remark at a bar. I know what you're thinking... The infamous adventures of me and my blonde best friend in yet again another third wheel date. I've been on so many, I could probably start a blog post just for those adventures... But, they're not as exciting. At least not to me.. And she's probably only been on three or she was the third., but hey! We each serve our role in this friendship. It just looks a little different than what people are used to. Anywho! The roommate of the guy she was dating made his way over to our brunch spot with his best friend. The two of them were fairly pleasant on the eyes, but his roommate is definitely a dude bro. His friend, on the other freckled hand, is a goofball in a Hawaiian shirt. With a drunk slur and conversation in a high decibel, conversation at the table roared. Flirting commenced, but not enough to be extremely memorable. Then, I was pressed between the two guys in the back seat of my best friend's date's Caddy. We made our way to a tiki hut bar fit for a Jimmy Buffett song. While at the bar, conversation continued as we soaked up the scene, Sun, and Saturday. It was actually Sunday but I didn't want to say son in Sunday next to each other. ;)) After a couple shots that this independent girl bought on her own, I accidentally brushed up against Mr. Vontrapp's back while he was seated at the bar. Yes, he saw two girls standing behind him and chose to seat at the bar. Chivalry is not dead... But it's a very, very rare. I get up when I'm seated when an older lady walks around. But.... What can you do? If you hold everyone to the standard you have for yourself, you're going to be disappointed every time. That's something I've learned the Robert Frost, gravel, broken glass, "Road Less Traveled" way. Well, apparently my boobs brushed against his back which drove him crazy. I'm not really used to having bigger boobs because my whole life has been flat chested and the vice president of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee. Well, he instantly bought me like two cocktails. I guess it was a balanced diet, a drink in each hand. It was revealed that he had a girlfriend and it was deemed complicated. Out of respect, I tone down the flirting to a 1 (steak sauce). Then I dipped out and ubered my way home. They continued drinking and hours later I received a phone call from my best friend. "Someone wants to talk to you," she said. She knows how deplorable I am with name so she said, "it's the one with the flower shirt." "I want to whisper sweet nothings in your ear," Mr. Vantrapp spoke smoothly into the borrowed phone. "Paha what?" " I'm related to the Von Trapp family." "From The Sound of Music? Get out! I love that movie." " Yep fought the Nazis and everything." I heard him smirking through the phone. "Oh really? Then where they from?" I spat slyly. "Germany." "No, it's an hour outside of Austria." "Naw-aw." "I know because I tried to sign up for the tour while I was in Europe 2 months ago." "Smart cookie, Stephanie. " "You don't know..." "I'm trying to." "How would your girl friend feel about that?" I spat. And THAT'S where the convo ended. I'm a huge on empathy. If I were in his girlfriend shoes, I would be pissed. That's emotional cheating. Plain as can be. Yes, I should have stopped the conversation sooner. But sometimes I'm flirt when I have a hankering for a little bit of attention. At least I acknowledge it, right? Well, he broke up with his girlfriend a couple days later and got my number from his friend. We've gone back and forth a couple times but I think I'm a little too feisty for him. He inquired of my plans for the day and I told him writing. Once he pried, I revealed scarce details about my blog to which he judged instantly. Said those haven't been relevant since the early 2000s. After schooling him on the relevance for aspiring writers, he got quiet. The conversation carried for a couple more minutes and then he hung up, like a 13 year-old girl. Okay bro. Don't worry, I learned things from the bad boy study. This guy was before that series of posts. Hopefully the next one won't be too bad... There's still one in the mix though, so don't hold your breath.... He's An Austrian Strudel... far away and dusted with bad boy lust
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AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
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