Well, That Was a First

After work yesterday, I went to Preservation Pub to meet Lydia, a good friend from college whom I've unfortunately lost touch with during the past few years, despite the fact that we're both still living in Knoxville. Pitiful.

Apparently, there was some kind of benefit going on at Pres. Pub (Relay for Life, maybe?), so the place was pretty crowded, and there was a Hootie-ish band playing up on the stage. I arrived before Lydia did, so I squeezed up to the bar to get a beer, like you often have to do when every seat at the bar is occupied.

I didn't pay much attention to the people on either side of me, mainly because I was keeping one eye on the door (for Lydia) and one eye on the bartender (for attention). However, the chick to my right certainly noticed me.

I believe her name was "Mel," and she immediately asked me if I was there alone. No, I replied, I'm meeting a friend. Mel was slurring pretty badly, and at first I thought she was just wasted. However, it also crossed my mind that she might have been foreign, which would have explained her slow-paced, somewhat garbled speech. Where are you from, I asked, out of sheer curiosity and not at all realizing that I was appearing "interested." Turns out, she's from Louisiana, has lived in Knoxville for eight years, lives in an apartment that overlooks the river, lives alone (emphasis), and doesn't mind living alone, because she doesn't have to put up with anyone's .... (I didn't catch that last part; it was too garbled.)

Clearly, Mel was quite a talker. It also became clear that Mel was hitting on me, so I told her I had to go find my friend and made a getaway. Shortly thereafter, Lydia arrived and all was forgotten.

That is, until Mel made her way over to our table a little later. I wanted to meet your friend, she said. So, I obligingly introduced her to Lydia. Mel continuously referred to the fact that Lydia and I were on a "date," despite the fact that I insisted that we were just old friends. She also told Lydia that I seemed like an "amazing person," and that I had a "beautiful aura." Riiiiight.

Lydia, always the epitome of cool, knew exactly what to do and quickly pulled out her phone, explaining that she needed to make a reservation for our impending dinner "date." I guess she wanted to make it clear to Mel that she had no intention of giving me up without a fight. Luckily, Mel took the hint and skedaddled.

I have to say, I've been hit on by a few men at bars in my day, but never by a woman. I guess there's a first time for everything.

I called Philly on the way home to tell her about Mel, and also to get reassurance that I don't give off a lesbian "vibe." (Not that there's anything wrong with that vibe, it's just not the one I'm aiming for.) Philly, of course, took full advantage of the situation by calling me at work this morning to let me know that some woman named Mel called the house looking for me. Very funny, Mother.