I've been feeling a bit under the weather for the last few days... nasty cold, complete with fever for a day or so... after sleeping for 14 hours Friday night (something I'm fairly certain I haven't done since college), I decided I needed a little weekend fun and went to a party with my friend A and her fiance Saturday night.
when we first got there it appeared to be your typical backyard bbq, with eats and drinks and ice... at closer inspection, maybe not so typical... there was an over-abundance of ice...
in the middle of the backyard was a giant block of ice tilted up at one end. the host's name was carved into one side. on top were several curved lines, carefully carved into the block of ice, (the guys, of course, using power tools to create these lines).
this is the shot luge.
my friend A had mentioned the shot luge, but I didn't really think about it or ask what she was talking about... now it became clear.
one guy is on the uphill end of the block of ice, pouring the shots down the slides. and the lucky shot recipient bends over at the waist (some crouch) on the downhill side with their mouth on the ice to receive the shot. and of course, being in Colorado, there was a plastic skier to race the shot down the shot luge. (where is my camera when these things happen?)
even though I decided to resist the shot luge (of course, not because I was above taking shots off a block of ice, but solely to keep my cold to myself), A took her turn, after which we stood and watched a few others. as we watched, we'd been talking with A's fiance and Tall Guy, when A and fiance wandered off. (I found out later, to give Tall Guy and me a little time to chat).
excellent... Tall Guy is cute, seems nice, and is, well, tall. so we talk for a little while about kayaking and skiing and other randomly interesting things. the conversation seems to be flowing pretty well when Tall Guy pulls out his cell phone, dials, and proceeds to talk to someone...
feeling rather ridiculous, I half wave at him and start to walk off, to hear Tall Guy say, "it was really nice to meet you."
I smile back at him (to be polite) but don't say anything (also to be polite, given he is in the middle of a phone conversation).
I wander around and find A on the stairs of the porch with a few of the girls. of course A asks what happened. so I tell her.
we all decide that no, it wasn't me. Tall Guy needs an etiquette lesson. it would have been one thing if his phone had rung, he had indicated he needed to take the call and then answered... or if he had said something to the effect of excuse me I have to make a call, before dialing... but come on, is a little courtesy that much to ask?
well, we sit on the stairs watching one of the guys other random games of the evening... a version of kindergarten toss-across. they have two boards with holes in them set up about 30 feet apart, and are taking turns throwing duct-taped corn bags (apparently the new thirty-something bean bag) at the board opposite. the guys are very animated while playing, jumping up when they score and talking trash to their opponent.
having had our fill of duct-taped corn-bag toss-across, we head inside to join the bathroom line, then decide to detour to the basement bathroom, even though the door doesn't close (some guy broke it down during one of the previous parties).
when it's just A and I downstairs, she apologizes to me. she says she's sorry she didn't even think about Mr Impatient maybe being at the party.
I say it's not a big deal, it's not as if we dated or anything. we'd seen him when we first got to the party, and he'd said hello, although quite honestly, it took me a minute to remember exactly who he was... and it wasn't a big deal, really... well until I ran into him later.
I'm out by the garage where the third random game (drinking ping pong) is going on when Mr Impatient walks up and starts talking to me. (perhaps now is a good time to fill in a little background information... )
[background story... feel free to skip right over if you know it]
Mr Impatient was one of the first guys I met from this group of A and fiance's friends. we'd been out drinking and Mr Impatient made a little bet with me... if I won, he'd make me dinner, and if I lost he'd take me to dinner... not a bad bet from my perspective.
so after about a month of many phone calls, him constantly telling me he wants to get together for dinner, but never actually having dinner together, we both ended up out at this bar these guys apparently frequent.
he knew I was going with A and fiance to a show that night, so when he saw me there he came up and said something along the lines of hey, what are you doing here, thought you were going to the show.
um, ok... I explained to him that A and fiance had wanted to grab dinner there. so Mr Impatient and I chat a little, and when it's time to leave for the show. Mr Impatient says they may end up there. and they do. but A and I are close to the stage dancing, and Mr Impatient, despite being so anxious to hang out on the phone, appears to be playing it cool in front of his buddies.
even so, when he leaves to go to another bar, he tries to get me to join him, but the show wasn't over and we wanted to stay, so he said he'd call me and we'd grab that dinner... well, he never did... and we never did. (and, yes, I could have called him, but I'm a firm believer in people doing as they say they will, if I'd told him I'd call, I would... again, just a little courtesy.)
[end of background story]
back by the garage, Mr Impatient is going on about how busy he's been. he's tired of his job, he's ready to quit after the summer. he offers up, in what I assume to be some semblance of a "sorry I didn't call" excuse, that he's been on a ridiculous number of business trips, he's only in town about half of every month, and etc. etc.
he's apparently leaving on a long multi-country business trip for most of the summer, which is why he's not quitting until after the summer.
after describing his upcoming trip, he suggests that we should hang out when he gets back this fall. he'll give me a call.
excellent, I think I'll just sit and wait by the phone for that call...
oh, the dumb things guys do on a Saturday night.