Much like every Tuesday night, I met my very favorite gals for dinner. After sharing a bottle of Chard over fish tacos, two of us decided to continue our night out in PB (stands for Pacific Beach, but "Pompous Bros" comes to mind as well). We ended up at a dive called Bub's, nothing but class, where all of 8 girls total, including us, were sharing a bar with many, many....PB's.
Your standard encounters didn't keep us from stimulating discussions on life and an enjoyable Bud Light buzz. We had the lonely bar fly come up with two girly shots, inevitably explaining what they were called and what was in them (not wanting to make him feel like a total idiot I didn't tell him that his knowledge was no good here, and that I am what we call a bartender) so we politely took the fruit juice with a dash of vodka. He left quickly (much appreciated) and mumbled something about a pretty smile. Okay, thanks. Another few came up, attempted chatting yada yada. Although we are what I would consider "nice girls" we do a pretty good job at sending the "I'm a biatch and not interested" vibe...gets 'em to walk within 30 seconds just about every time. Uh thankyou.
Your standard encounters didn't keep us from stimulating discussions on life and an enjoyable Bud Light buzz. We had the lonely bar fly come up with two girly shots, inevitably explaining what they were called and what was in them (not wanting to make him feel like a total idiot I didn't tell him that his knowledge was no good here, and that I am what we call a bartender) so we politely took the fruit juice with a dash of vodka. He left quickly (much appreciated) and mumbled something about a pretty smile. Okay, thanks. Another few came up, attempted chatting yada yada. Although we are what I would consider "nice girls" we do a pretty good job at sending the "I'm a biatch and not interested" vibe...gets 'em to walk within 30 seconds just about every time. Uh thankyou.
There was an amusing group of what seemed like middle-agers who had just finished some sort of league sport...bowling was my guess. One of their soldiers brought my pal Val and I some brewskies, how sweet. He informed us that they were in fact softball leaguers and that tonight they won their championship, hence the trophy on the belly bar. After some banter (shocker, I'm pretty good at that) he suggested I go give his buddies a hard time.
Oooooooooooookay.
So my free beer and I strutted to their table, "Wow! Is that a baseball trophy?"
"No, softball actually."
(Insert disappointed face here) "Oh."
And the rest was history.
A good time was had by all, and after much conversation with one of the "players" (mostly innocent flirtation via making fun of one another) we figured out that we are from the same glorious town of Glendora...Really?! He was no Charger from Charter Oak High, but I suppose I could get past that for the sake of some entertaining conversation.
In his effort to reel me in (now the teasing would have to really be up to par) he made fun of my last date who was in the Navy, the way I spent my day (writing of course being a huge part of it) and the fact that I think it's cool that I was born during the Summer Olympics...all answers to questions he asked and in good fun. I had some good ones for Mr Ex Pro Baseball Gone Corporate as well! I mean, the guy did commercials as a kid (been there, done that) and lives in PB for goodness sake, I got material for daaaays! He made me give him my email address so that he could write me a blog post about that night, from "my" perspective. I'm not an advocate of meeting males in bars, so giving out my number is never an option...but an email to a fellow Glendorian, why the heck not?!
Here's what I received the next day...
Subject line: Blog #1 The One who got away...or did he?
"So last night me and a few friends went out for a bit, I had a long day so of course I had to get in a bottle of cab prior to the night starting!! We end up here and there but our final spot, a local PB joint known as Bub’s, was where it all went down. We had it all folks, I mean everything!! From the random guy buyin drinks for my girlfriend and I, to sexy softball guys with huge trophies getting after it as if it were 1984 and we were celebrating the year of the Olympics (we will save this for another blog people)…..we had it all! So the night is under way and this man, a talk dark skinned rugged handsome man approaches me from behind (not that way ladies but oh do we hope so later) and whispers……’ Glendora , and you?’……….he immediately takes my breath away and I begin to choke on what was a Bud Light from a guy who was in the Navy wearin an extra small polo, front tucked in with a buzz cut and all!!
Well, needless to say he was funny and there was just something about him……..he didn’t want my number, yet wanted my e mail, to write me a blog……"
Well, needless to say he was funny and there was just something about him……..he didn’t want my number, yet wanted my e mail, to write me a blog……"
Seriously? Oh Bub's Guy you may have a trophy in Softball...but I have one in blogging!!!
After meeting up the next night (I'm telling ya, wit speaks volumes to this blonde) I promised to write him a blog, from his perspective of course.
Subject line: A Charger Indeed
"Wednesday started out with what seemed like just your average day...
groggy response to my blackberry going off, pretty tired from last night's softball game and celebration at Bub's. It was no double header ending in blood-stained kaki's, but a real aggressive game nonetheless. Us Glendora boys are KNOWN for being aggressive.
After receiving our well earned plastic, teal trophy the fellas and I could not resist the idea of a few pitchers, a winking bartender and some fly PB-tian honeys. As I stumbled to the shower (in my kind-of-a-big-deal 4 bdrm on Felspar St) I tripped over my flat rimmed hat which held a ripped piece of paper in it. "Ah yes..." I thought to myself, "...that phenomenal blonde I met was gracious enough to give me her email address!" Forget the trophy, that was ALL the reward I needed last night!
Although I told the adorable school teacher I'd blog at her by 10am, my duties of saving the world took precedence-after all, if I didn't tell the mexicans where to move the cubicles and copy machine, who would?
By 6pm, the ideas I'd been brainstorming all day (in a grand attempt to impress Sara without an 'h") finally came to flourish and a blog-tastic email was sent, witty title and all.
The intriguing Charter Oak cheerleader actually responded to my written pursuit! To keep her on her toes I sent her MY number, instead of getting hers, I mean c'mon it's the 21st century!
Long story short, she agreed to meet me at my favorite joint (not that kind of joint...I don't do drugs, I'm an ATHLETE!) When she walked into "Tap Room" I felt like a kid in a candy store!...or one in a canadian field on the set of a McDonald's commercial.
I mean, the girls that I usually meet at Bub's have two-toned hair, tramp stamps and wear Uggs with their jorts for cryin out loud!!!
This gal was pure class...a Charger indeed! All I could ask for was that she'd grace me with her presence again..."
Will this become a blogging war? Survival of the wittiest?
groggy response to my blackberry going off, pretty tired from last night's softball game and celebration at Bub's. It was no double header ending in blood-stained kaki's, but a real aggressive game nonetheless. Us Glendora boys are KNOWN for being aggressive.
After receiving our well earned plastic, teal trophy the fellas and I could not resist the idea of a few pitchers, a winking bartender and some fly PB-tian honeys. As I stumbled to the shower (in my kind-of-a-big-deal 4 bdrm on Felspar St) I tripped over my flat rimmed hat which held a ripped piece of paper in it. "Ah yes..." I thought to myself, "...that phenomenal blonde I met was gracious enough to give me her email address!" Forget the trophy, that was ALL the reward I needed last night!
Although I told the adorable school teacher I'd blog at her by 10am, my duties of saving the world took precedence-after all, if I didn't tell the mexicans where to move the cubicles and copy machine, who would?
By 6pm, the ideas I'd been brainstorming all day (in a grand attempt to impress Sara without an 'h") finally came to flourish and a blog-tastic email was sent, witty title and all.
The intriguing Charter Oak cheerleader actually responded to my written pursuit! To keep her on her toes I sent her MY number, instead of getting hers, I mean c'mon it's the 21st century!
Long story short, she agreed to meet me at my favorite joint (not that kind of joint...I don't do drugs, I'm an ATHLETE!) When she walked into "Tap Room" I felt like a kid in a candy store!...or one in a canadian field on the set of a McDonald's commercial.
I mean, the girls that I usually meet at Bub's have two-toned hair, tramp stamps and wear Uggs with their jorts for cryin out loud!!!
This gal was pure class...a Charger indeed! All I could ask for was that she'd grace me with her presence again..."
Will this become a blogging war? Survival of the wittiest?
Stay tuned...
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