“My Roommate Thinks You’re Cute…”

… works like a charm

This past weekend went as most do… completely randomly.  Carissa and I had a friend from home who was in town for a wedding, so we spent part of Saturday with him, getting lunch at Nick’s, which ended up turning into mimosas, bloody marys and LI iced teas.  We then wandered over to Lahaina’s on the beach for some fine pitchers of beer, because no out-of-of-towner’s trip to SD can be complete without some quality time at Lahaina’s.

V came to meet up, and Carissa and Roupen headed out shortly after.   V and I positioned ourselves in our usual spot, which is at the edge of the deck right by the wooden railing, with the sidewalk below.  During our normal (not really normal) conversation, we both looked down below when some loud motorcycles pulled up.  Two of the guys were older fat men with huge beards and tats all over, and then there was one who looked somewhere between our ages, and besides a sleeve of tattoos, looked pretty clean-cut… biker-sexual, if you will.

V says, “I LOVE guys on motorcycles.”

I knew.

“Well, that one’s actually pretty hot.”

He took his helmet off, and it was confirmed.  Definite hottie.

I tell V, “I’m going to talk to him for you.”

“No.  Please don’t.”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine.”

“Please don’t.  I hate it when you do this.”

“Oh, stop being like Carissa.”

I lean over the railing and wave to the guy who had just gotten off of his bike.  He looks over, smiles, and waves back.  I gesture for him to come over.  He obliges.  I start a pretty normal (probably not normal) conversation with him, and collect the basic information (he’s single, 28 and lives in the area), before telling him I think he’d be great for my roommate and she’s really cute.

He says, “Oh, really?  Who’s your roommate?  What does she look like.”

V is sitting across the table and probably about ready to murder me, when I point to her and say, “Well she’s here!  This is V.”

He says, “Oh wow, she is cute.”

V and motorcycle man introduce themselves from over the railing, and although he is in a rush because his big motorcycle dudes are waiting for him and one of them is out of gas, he asks V for her number, and immediately messages her to make sure she has his as well.

He walks away, and I say, “You’re welcome.”  V rolls her eyes, but I can tell she’s into it.

I pat myself on my back, because I feel I was a pretty darn good wingman, and I’ve done my good deed for the day.

V and I left Lahaina’s shortly after to catch a shuttle bus to Oktoberfest in OB, the next town south of us.  The problem that I created for myself was that I just had such an easy time picking up a guy for someone else, so I got it in my head that it should be just as easy of a task to do for myself.  Piece.of.cake.

We get to Oktoberfest, walk around the vendors for a bit, then head to the tent to grab a couple of beers.  I immediately spot a tall, beefy, sexual man in the distance.  I spotted him because his head was higher up in the crowd than other people’s.  This is rocket science, I know.  I told V, “Okay, I’m going to go wingman myself, like I wingman’ed you.”

We walk over, and my genius-ass takes the same exact approach as I did with the motorcycle dude, since it worked so well that time.  “My roommate thinks your cute,” I think, might have been the line.  He asks if V, who is standing next to me is my roommate and I respond,

“No.  Well, yes, she is, but no, it’s not her.”

Somehow we continue talking to the guy and three of his friends, with them all seeming to forget about that “roommate” who thought he was cute.  We hit it off, and ended up agreeing to go with one of the couples to their house to let their dogs out, and then back to PB to all go out there.  I think it was during the car ride when one of the girls said,

“So wait… where’s your roommate that thought [Beefy] was cute?”

V and I look at each other for a second.   Whoops.  “Oh, in Rhode Island.”

“Then how did she know he was cute?”

“Who said it was a she?”

I think we just confused them so much, they dropped the subject.  We ended up hanging out all night, dancing, and knocking over photo booths… pretty typical evening.

Beefy and I will apparently be seeing each other again Thursday night.   And V got some super-sweet selfies from motorcycle man today.  Things are looking up.

xoxo

Gossip Girl

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