If you know me at all, you know my body not only cannot physically digest any sort of Asian food, it flat out rejects it on contact; which is precisely why when I was asked by a group of friends to go out for dinner at a popular Chinese restaurant, I was hesitant to accept. I mean, really…who wants to overpay for a meal that is just going to give you diarrhea anyway? Damn MSG.
But being the good sport that I am, I humored my colleagues and friends and graced them with my presence. After all, for some odd reason, I did have a gift card for the place.
When I arrived a few minutes late, I was escorted to a large table in the back of the restaurant that was only half full. I sat down wondering who all the extra seats were for. I was sure I didn’t have this many friends in this town.
We ordered drinks and as the waitress left our table, I noticed an influx of tall, attractive men in suits entering the restaurant by the dozens. It sounds crazy, but it was what I had always imagined Alaska would be like—full of big, tall men (only without the suits of course), drastically outnumbering the female population. I felt like I had died and gone to Heaven.
I did a long sweep of the restaurant, slowly sipping my martini, hoping for some eye contact. But as I was scanning the room, I began to wonder—to what did I owe this blessing of male invasion? Whatever it was, the ratio was on my side and I liked it. But as I started to spin my wheels, I began to put two and two together.
(Logo from Wikipedia)
All I have to say is DAMN I was lucky. Who knew the NBA D-League Showcase this year would be here of all places? Ah, success. A long weekend filled with professional basketball players, coaches and scouts. And as a self-proclaimed, closet sports groupie (ahem…NOT the slutty kind), it didn’t get better than this. It was like a mini-final four in the middle of January…only better.
Just as I realized what was going on around me, a handful of guests began to fill our long, half-empty table.
And then I saw him.
He sat down next to me and after pretending I didn’t see him for a few long seconds, I was introduced by one of my friends.
His name was Jacob (well, not really, but you know the drill) and I later found out he was in town for the tournament for work. Upon introduction he politely engaged in conversation and by the end of dinner (or in my case, a few more cocktails), the nice to meet you’s had turned to flirty banter.
The next day, on my lunch break, my friend and I headed for the arena to catch part of the game that was taking place that afternoon. And shockingly enough, we ran into each other again.
It was no coincidence, I assure you—just fate, hard at work.
We chatted for awhile, and after asking me what we were doing later that night, casually offered his number.
A group of us met up later that night at a local dive bar. I pulled out my usual bag of tricks (you know, the mild southern accent, deep stares and conversational touching) and we continued to hit it off. Was there a make-out in my future? The way things were going, it definitely wasn’t out of the question.
After too many Jager bombs (one of the few downsides of hanging out with a giant crowd of guys) and a lot of karaoke, closing time rolled around and as everyone in the group tried their hardest to get their ducks in a row to exit the bar, the awkward “what now’s” began.
Being the anything-but-forward girl that I am, I decided to play it cool and just see what happened. I’m sure you can guess how that turned out.
Five minutes later, the bartender kicked us all out and my girlfriend and I were out on the street waiting for Jacob to hail us a cab.
He gave me a long hug and a kiss on the cheek and sent us on our merry little way. Seriously? I mean, it’s not like I was going to go home with him, but I thought there was at least a late-night food vendor in our future.
(Photo from 'Sammy Hancock' via Flickr)
The next day, I couldn’t stop talking about Jacob, and how confused I was about how the night ended. My friend finally broke down and told me what had never once crossed my mind in the 24 hours I had known him:
He had a girlfriend.
And not just a girlfriend, I believe the quote was “practically engaged and living in sin”.
Well he sure didn’t act like he had a girlfriend. But then again, I guess they never do. I sure do pick the winners.
If only I had known about this “almost engaged” situation…the weekend could have ended a lot differently—possibly with the future title of “NBA Wife”. Good thing I don’t care about all that stuff…I mean…okay I already told you I was a groupie now let’s just get on with life.
