I went to Hot Tuna with Tom and Mark and Tara and Robbie (radio station Robbie, not roommate Robbie).
There was a guy there that looked like an Abercrombie model. He asked me if I wanted to dance. I asked him if he was dressed head to toe in Abercrombie clothing. He said no — his shirt was Abercrombie, his jeans were American Eagle, his boxer briefs were Gap, his belt was something I can’t remember, his socks were something he couldn’t remember and his shoes were New Balance. Then he pulled up his shirt and said that his abs were his. I stared at him, totally unimpressed in my Diesel jeans, Limited sweater, Victoria’s Secret thong, Gap tank top, Nine West shoes and Guess? rock star watch.
He told me that his name was Patrick and that he was a marine engineer. I told him that I do marketing for an engineering firm and impressed him with my knowledge of maritime master planning. He told me he skis and makes $20,000 a month. I asked him what his zodiac sign was. He said he was a Leo. I said I was an Aries. He said he was arrogant. I said I knew. He said I must be competitive. I said I was. He said he loves to be the center of attention. I said, “It will obviously never work out between us. Are you friends with that guy in the North Carolina hat?”
He said, “Yes.”
I said, “Introduce me.”
He said, “This is Luke. Luke, this is Lisa.”
I said, “Your friend is very arrogant.”
Luke pulled up Abercrombie’s shirt and said, “He has every right to be — look at his abs.”
I said, “Neat. Actually, I only started talking to him because I thought you were cute.”
Luke said, “Interesting.”
I smiled and walked away.
Twenty minutes later, Abercrombie tried to dance with me. I pulled out my car keys, winked at Luke as he started to walk towards me and peaced out with Tom and Mark.
Poor Abercrombie. He’s probably never been turned down before.
And poor Luke. He’s totally missing out.
I’m glad Tom and Mark are back in town. I think we’re going to have some fun.
