Friday Night Lights

            Friday nights have turned into this; me and the girls going to the boy’s game.  The boys I speak of are those that wanted to play us in a “skirts” game of softball.  (Jerks).  The boys are also the same boys I play with on Sunday’s sooo; Hot Guy plays on this team.

            Remember a few blogs back when I was saying how we hung out that Monday (in the parking lot of the field, but whatever, we hung out nonetheless) and then Finny and Cheese were up my ass about Facebook messaging him?  Yes, well we did have small talk conversation, which didn’t turn into anything but whatever. 

            So this past Friday we're at the field.  Oh!  How could I forget this little tid bit of information, my friend Donny had been texting me all day about coming to the game, and I told him yes, I would be there.

            This small exchange turned into the most absurd conversation ever.  About sex.  (He doesn’t even know about the blog! HA).  He was telling me all these dirty little things like, “yea, I’ll get in you,” or “sex is sex, I don’t know why girls think about it so much,” or “my girlfriend wont be there so don’t worry about her.”  WOW!  Ok, first of all, Donny has a girlfriend, not to mention a child on the way.  Let’s be serious, as much as I need to have my cobwebs cleaned, I am NOT going to becoming “that girl,” the home wrecker.  Get the fuck out of here.

            So Reg, Finny, and me get to the field at 7:30 for a 9pm game.  We brought about 50 beers in the cooler that I have now deigned my “dump cooler.”  And we start drinking and partying and playing can jam.  Alas, there is no Hot Guy there.  Now, he was the one that originally told me about the game and where it was and what time.  So why was he not there!?  I was angered.  I thought he was bailing on the game because he is shy and I am clearly not.  I am very obviously loud and outgoing and have a filthy mouth.

            I’m sitting next to Reg, Finny is off ogling our shirtless friend, (don’t get me wrong, he is definitely something to look at) and I hear my phone go off.

            Donny, “wow J”

            I do not answer.  What the fuck does that mean? ‘Wow’?  Whatever.  So the drinking proceeds and the games continue, and still no Hot Guy.

            Then I hear this persistent little voice from behind me, “did you get my message?”

            “Yes, I did.  Wow what?”

            He gets close to me, puts his arms around me and says, “you look sexy and you smell good.”

            I just start laughing.  I am not that kind of girl that is going to squeal like a gutted and bleeding pig when some guy does that (that I know is harmless), tell him to shut up, and of course I smell good!  I am at a fucking legit dump watching a softball game and slinging beer.  Of course I smell good!  Why wouldn’t I put on perfume to go to a sporting event at which I am going to drink and smoke butts?  That would just be ridiculous.  (Insert sarcasm to that entire paragraph minus the first half).

            Then I hear his little voice close to my ear again and he says, kind of loud, “well, I guess I should try before ‘Hot Guy’ gets here right?”

            That’s when I shrugged him off and glared at him, waving my arms at the crowd of people that were around us as if to say, “really guy?  Shut the fuck up!”  He laughed and staggered away to be a heinous little drunk man for another half an hour.  Jerk ass guy.

            At least I now knew Hot Guy was coming to the game.  In Donny’s little speech he let it slip, so I was feeling a little less on edge.  So whatever, Hot Guy gets there and as is typical I cannot speak to him other than to say hey.  He’s smart though, he doesn’t get hammered before playing softball like the rest of them do so he’s kind of just hanging out, throwing a Frisbee around and chatting.

            So whatever, the game is played, me and the girls are drinking, after the game they are all in a bad mood because they lost (due to errors and lack of run production…  Hint hint boys, don’t drink THEN play softball).  It’s probably not the Gatorade of the dump field if you catch my drift.  They scatter rather quickly and I somehow find the balls to ask Hot Guy if he wanted to go to the Watering Hole for a few drinks.  He says sure he would go, along with Mex (the one who originally made the sex bet about Hot Guy.  If you are confused read all the blogs again.  He is in there), and our other friend Hick.

            Here we are at the Watering Hole, which I have not been frequenting as much, me and Reg, waiting for the boys to get there.  They walk in and come right over to us and were all hanging out and whatnot, it’s kind of crowded in there so we decided to go sit on the oh so famous front stoop and drink our beers there.

            Come 2AM, we all decide it’s probably for the best if we all head home, respectively.  (HAHAHA I had to put that in there).  So Hick leaves, Mex is leaving at the same time as me, and Hot Guy comes up to me and was talking again and he leans in to give me a hug.  Whoa!  Was not expecting physical contact, but I mean, I am not going to push back or anything, that would just be counterproductive. 

            Breaking apart after this hug there was a weird moment when he looked right into my eyes and just looked for a few minutes.  I started getting self-conscious.  What if there is something on my face?  What if I look cross-eyed due to 8 too many drinks?  What if there is a rogue eyebrow hair looking directly in his direction?  Ya know?  So many things were happening!  But then his gaze went from eyes to lips and you know what that means!

            Nothing. It means nothing when it comes to me and luck with men. 

            “I’ll see you Sunday?” he says.

            “Yea.  See you Sunday.”

            He goes to his car and I go to mine and as I am driving home I receive a phone call from Mex in which he states, actually yells in my ear, “you are such a fucking pussy!  I can’t believe you let that happen!  Why didn’t you walk him to his car?!  Your terrible!”

            WOAH!  Why didn’t I walk HIM to HIS car?  Where is the chivalry?  Shouldn’t he be walking ME to MY car?  Digress.  I am a pussy, I mean I guess I could have done the one step in thing and stare at his lips as well.  But where would that have gotten me, I probably stunk of booze and cigarettes.  I am SO sorry, but I don’t want a first kiss with someone to be like that of an ashtray.  I didn’t have any gum on me either.  So I think I did all right.