Nostalgia
*sigh*
by , 01-04-2010 at 01:02 AM (1750 Views)
(another whiney *****y blog about women, in case you were wondering.)
Why do I bother? The other night I was out to dinner with a few of my CPR friends at bdub's, and we all (myself included) noticed a few things. More importantly, our waitress. She sat down at the table-rather close to me- to take our order. Nobody but me has ever seen someone do that. When I stopped to think about it, the only place that has happened was in places they were kind of required to socialize. (Think the likes of Hooters.) She spent a lot of time talking to me and nobody else at the table. Naturally, I flirted back. Who doesn't want to flirt with a cute waitress that you think you have absolutely no shot at? Anyway, after the umpth time she stopped during our four hour stay to see if we (I) needed anything, all four other people at the table started laughing. I had no clue what was going on. Cameron turned to me and says "Ben, you need to leave your number with your tip." I'm sitting there thinking why? Not that I don't want to, but why? Everyone else starts telling me everything that should have and did tip me off that I was getting a little more attention than the average customer. During this time, we paid up and when she gave me my change, it was the longest, most interactive change exchange I've ever had. After a few minutes of me fighting against what I wanted to do, I decided to go out on a limb. When it came time to leave, I wrote my name and number on each dollar bill (genius idea, right? Dollar bills don't get circulated that much.) that I left for a tip. I wrote it nice and big and left them all lined up all pretty and such. When I did that, I didn't expect anything to come of it. And guess what: nothing has come of it. I can't figure out why I'm disappointed. I can understand no response after a day, possibly even two. Which, it's only been two, but being the paranoid freak I am, I'm still anxious. The endless circle of questions- what if she sees it and just laughs that I fell for it and she got a nice tip? what if that nasty chick at the next table gets my dollar bill as change instead, and the waitress didn't see it? what if . . . and so it goes. I don't know why I bother with women. I'm hopeless and always have been. I haven't had an official 'girlfriend' since I was a sophomore in highschool. Maybe the lesson I'm sposed to learn from this is that I'm supposed to live my life out in the mountains as a hermit.
Go to Profile
Mark as Read
