Monday, March 5, 2007

eight six seven five three oh nine

so, sometimes I really really like being the cute single gal. It's fun to go out with your taken lady friends and have three or four wingwomen. It's a good time.

but sometimes it seems to get a leeeeetle out of hand.

some of my gal-pals are really really good at finding the cute guys in the bar. I mean, I see my fair share, too. Plus it takes more than one good pair of eyes to throughly scan a bar. And, see, when you have other people scoping for you too, it's interesting to see the different types of guys they notice and point out to you. Fortunately, I have one friend who is really really good at picking out the one's that I might want to talk to. So...

Once the clock-related locations and shirt/hair colors of a cute guy are shared, next I am usually goaded into going up and saying hello. Which I usually do.

But this is not how it happened this time.

Y'see, I was dancing up a storm with my co-worker and his friends. I'd chilled with them before, so this wasn't a big deal at all. Plus, he was having a bad night anyway, so I was trying to cheer him up. I came back to the bar area to check on my friends and found a smorgasbord of dudes in the general vicinity. Most of whom my friends were trying to have talk to me, not the other way around.

nice to have the opportunities, but that wasn't really what I was looking for at the time. but by this point, I needed to talk to these guys or I'd 1) be rude to my friends and 2) be rude to the guys. Now, some of 'em I was actually excited to meet. Like the photographer. He wasn't really cute, but he was nice, and he honestly just wanted to talk about photos. I gave him my card and we talked about trees since that's what he likes to photograph.

Then there was the weatherman, and he was funny, but not my type. There was another weatherman, too (one of the groups was a bunch of the young guys from a local news station)--and it was his birthday. He kept calling me "glasses." He was pretty drunk, so I moved down the line.

Next was the group of three country-guys with funny names. They were all quite polite, and in another situation I might have been interested. But I wasn't that day. I did have to talk up one of the guys for a while anyway, due to my friend's request--apparently one of this guy's two friends always makes the first moves with the ladies, and so they always end up dating him--I needed to at least flirt with Mr. Rico Suave's friend for a little bit just for his ego's sake, I guess? Anyhoo, I did as I was told. But I ended up talking to Mr. Suave anyway, 'cause he took the initiative in the convo.

And then there was the guy in the military who was actually from my home state which is 1200 miles away from where I live. We even grew up in the same city. But I am the one who gets credit for this one--'cause he was at the bar when I went to order my drink.

So, why am I telling you this? Because--well... So, I'm a photographer as a hobby, right? And I'm looking to gain more experience, and I want to try doing headshots and maybe wedding photography and that kind of stuff. I love the artsy stuff, but it's the stuff that caters to the people that will ultimately make me money. And, bless my friends, they'd told every one of these guys that I was a photographer. And every one of them needed headshots, or had a blank wall or a friend who was getting married or whatever. My friends did such a good job talking me and my photography up that I felt like I needed to give them my cards for business reasons even though I thought they'd be using it for personal ones.

The military guy is totally my fault, ('cause when he said where he was from I told him how I'd just been there 'cause it's my home, and he said how he missed it, so I told him to check out my pictures 'cause they're of there. So this was all me. But I think I un-flirted and hometowned it enough to make it not a please-email-me-for-a-date convo. I think.) but the rest o' the credit goes to my co-partiers.

I'm soooo not complaining. It never hurts to be the center of someone's attention, if only briefly. And it's even better when what your friends have talked up about you is true. But now I'm getting a bunch (I think I'm up to five?) half flirty/half business emails to which I'm having to deftly reply. It's good and bad. But next time I might just change my number and have them replace "Jenny" with my name. That would have been simpler. ;)


No comments: