Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Has Anyone Tried To Pick You Up Lately?


This post was inspired by Princess Pointful. In her last post she mentioned pick up attempts and the failures that came along with them. She invited stories of our own experiences in failure which made me remember one such incident many years ago in Atlanta.

Tom (S'Mat) and I were down in Peachland USA visiting with his dad and step mother. One of the first nights that we were down there, Tom's dad and Uncle Mike (the coolest 18 year old living in a mid 50's body) took us out to a local bar. Keep in mind now that we were only about 16 or 17 at the time and therefore too young to even drink legally in Canada... Yet somehow we were permitted entry into a somewhat decent bar in Atlanta. After trying to not giggle ourselves silly on how we'd managed to pass for at least 5 years older, we settled in.

Now for the ladies out there who have always wondered. Yes, Tom has always been good with women and especially those of the stunning variety. So it was no surprise to me then that he started up with one of the waitresses in the bar. I believe her name was Sarah and she was I think 24, placing her at least 7 or 8 years older than us. After the night was through he had her number and a date was arranged. Skipping the details of that, I found myself out for another night in Atlanta a few days later.

Having to dress the part of an older college man or something of that sort, I found myself wingmanning outside of an establishment while Tom and Sarah put the wraps on their date. As I waited, trying to figure out how I'd ended up in my situation, a ratty little compact pulled up beside me on the roadway. Inside the car was what appeared to be a woman. To this day, I'm not that sure of that. It wasn't her that I noticed first though... The car was a clunker to put it mildly and to add to it's charm, there was no front seat and what appeared to be some sort of throw rug in the back. The spectacle of that alone is worthy of a post, but even in typed form, this description does it no justice.

Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, this lady was not. I was taken aback by who or what this person was stopping to talk to me on the side of the road but one look at the shag rug in the back tipped me off that she may have been in fact a hooker. When she managed to blow a bubble while still speaking to me, I figured she was all business. Being barely old enough to have watched and appreciated Pretty Woman, what was happening to me completely went against how I thought John and hooker interactions were supposed to go. Either that or she thought I was an imported gigolo and had some sort of yellow fever going on.

After being visually stunned by the car itself and the oddity behind the wheel, I gathered myself to listen to what she was saying to me. So while she was blowing (ha ha ha... perverts) a bubble mid speech, she asked me if I wanted to go for a ride and have some fun. I found the whole situation completely ridiculous and did my best to not laugh outright infront of her. I politely declined and I think walked and then ran away.

A short while later, Tom and I were on our way back home to his dad's. I was driving with my trusty learner's permit which fooled the Americans and Tom and I were detailing the events of the date and my near sexual abduction. As the details were bantered back and forth we made our way back into the sub-division when all of a sudden Tom's eyes went golf ball in size and he points out the front of the car and shouts, "RED LIGHT!!!". I don't think I've ever hit the brakes that hard in my life. The Tercel or whatever we were driving at the time didn't exactly have carbon fibre braking power of your typical Formula 1 or Nascar racer and we proceeded to skid right through the intersection from pretty much one stop line to the next.

I am happy to say though, that those were the only skid marks left behind from that night's collective near mis-adventures.

4 comments:

S'Mat said...

They were golfball in texture too. BTW her name is Laura Ford (likely a pseudonym)... and, er, good with women? They're not forklifts or king cobras dude. Anyway, I go from charmed to charred pretty damned quickly these days. I have more scars than Stalone's stuntman.

Sorry, just needed to temper the statement (feeling fragile...). Other than the part where you expose me for a cad, this is a great recount of a magical trip. I had never heard the nittydetails of your near pleasure-cruise. Freaking hilarious!!!

Indiana James said...

Laura... Sarah... They both end in an "ah" sound. I think the nittydetails are best left as that. :)

Eve said...

S'Mat - I remember the first time I met you was during Frosh week. I saw you making out with three (or so) different girls in one night.

You cad, you.

James - Yeah, all girls' names sound the same. grrr.

Princess Pointful said...

I was quite pleased to see this story laid out in more detail.
Even creepier to when I first heard it!
It takes quite the woman to scare off a 16 year old... particularly one who has just watched his friend score with an older waitress!