The way we were

I said I'd post last week's encounter with the Flamingo but never got around to it. The scenario is still fairly fresh in my mind. Then again, any and all things pertaining to the Flamingo get seared into my brain. I can still relay the whole evening practically word for word. Perhaps we are all up for a bit of entertainment. So without further delay:

The Flight of the Flamingo

It was a dark and stormy night. Well, ok, it wasn't exactly storming but it wasn't a beautiful evening, either. Having missed out on Posie's birthday soiree at Senor Carlos I had said I'd join up with them at SkyBar. Naturally Daisy was my accomplice, ever my sidekick for adventure.

Lets cut to the chase: sometime later in the evening, when we had had a few more Malibu Slings in our system and what have you, I was attacked/hugged by a drunken guy as I was doing my thing on the dance floor.

*blinking fast, trying to make out the figure in the darkened room. Naturally I was without my glasses, who wears glasses at the clubs?*

"You don't recognize me, do you?"

*blinking some more, when suddenly the guy comes into view...the ever pined-for and elusive Flamingo*

"Oh! Hey!" I find out he's there with his brother that night *gesturing towards his brother, who is not at all like how I rememembered him* and get introduced to his brother's girlfriend. This itty-bitty white girl. She's pretty tanked as well, but overall I'd say she was very friendly. Hmm, no Lady Flamingo? That's a switch.

Ok, now narration's going to move into dialogue form. Imagine a calm and cool little me conversing with an intoxicated Flamingo. Imagine what it would be like to talk to the UPS Man from the MadTV skit, combined with Keanu Reeves from the Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure days, hit with a twist of Beavis and Butthead. (Yeah, I can tell all of you are eager to speak with this gentleman, too.)

"So have you graduated already?"

"Yeah, I did. Last year." (Though now that I think of it, it's almost been 2 years.)

"Huh, yeah, me too." (Thanks to his ramblings with my brother during their bball sessions I know this is true. Flamingo graduated a semester later than me.)

"Good stuffs."

"So what are you doing now?"

"I'm a travel agent."

*looks a tad taken aback* "What was your major??" Note: His reaction absolutely stung. Luckily, he was too wasted to inquire about my career path any further.

"I'm an engineer." *flashes his hand in front of my face...I THINK I was supposed to see an engineering ring on his finger* "You know, making money." *emphasizing his point by rubbing his thumb to his fingers really quickly...you know, the gesture that means "cash"* (Can I call him out on some BS now? I know, again from my brother, that he took geology. NOT engineering. He even switched from geophysics into geology 'cuz, as he explained to my brother, there would be better jobs out there for geologists. Even tried to get my brother to switch majors to be the same as him. Not once was there any mention of engineering.)

"Ah I see, I'm kind of hoping to get some travelling done before I get older."

"Oh! I was just in New Zealand last month. Have you ever been there?"

"No, I haven't."

"And I'm going to Montreal for my birthday. Woo hoo!" *pumping both fists into the air* Now I'm a tad jealous. I've always wanted to see Montreal. From what I can remember, I think his birthday's in late May so he'd be seeing Montreal sooner than I ever could.

"You went to Grandin, right?"

"Yeah, I did." At this point I realized I had never introduced Daisy. I turned to my left and she was gone. Turns out that the brother's girlfriend, upon hearing that we were from Grandin, dragged her over to the brother since he had gone to Grandin. Too bad they had no idea who the other person was. *lol*

"Is anyone else from jr. high here?" *craning his neck to look around* How we got from discussing high school to jr. high so quickly is beyond me.

"I'm not sure. None that I know of."

"I saw so-and-so the other day at the bank at Gulf Canada. Remember how skinny she was??? When I saw her lately...I swear! D cup!" *making gestures for "big bazooms"* Please note that he and I are still on the dance floor at this point.

By this time I'm thinking to myself "Lord, help me."

"And whos-it is married now!"

"Yes, yes, I know."

"And whats-his-head and such-and-such....I think they're gay. Everytime I see them, they're together." *lays his pointer fingers side by side to emphasize "together"*

*making a face* "I don't think that necessarily means anything."

Undaunted, he carries on. "I play ball with your brother." *simulates a cross over...WE'RE STILL ON THE DANCE FLOOR!* "He's pretty tall!"

"Mm hmm, yep, he's tall."

"He's like 6'5"!"

"Not THAT tall. He's only 6'."

"Yeah, he's tall. Maybe 6'2""

"He's 6'"

"Gotta be at least 6'"

"Yes, he's 6' tall." *exasperated*

At this point Daisy had come back to where the Flamingo and I were "dancing." As she was relaying where she went, he made his way back to his group. I was now free. I didn't run into him the rest of the night I was at SkyBar.

I would be lying if I said that I wasn't disappointed in him when I saw him last week. I don't have much of a tolerance for piss-drunk people. He was one of the last guys I would ever imagine having to deal with piss-drunk, and yet it happened. Mind you he wasn't all grabby and disrespectful, but that may have to do with knowing him so well. But, I mean, wouldn't you think that at our age getting absolutely plastered would be passe? Save the drunken stupor for the 18-year-olds. We should be past this immature nonsense by now.

Another thing that bothered me: I've known him for all these years and all he can think of for conversation are ridiculous anecdotes of people we knew back in jr. high??? Surely there must be something better we could've talked about.

Moreover, I thought seeing him in his drunken glory would finally give me some closure. Remember that I've had a crush on this guy since jr. high. I haven't had butterflies when I see him or get all tongue-tied around him and all that cheesy stuff. I've never been that way with him. Still, a part of me can't seem to get past him. The little jr. high girl in me still wants to know what it'd be like to "go out" with the Flamingo. I don't think that will ever change. Call it "waxing nostalgic."