Gexx in Knoxville

This blog is about Gexx, in Knoxville

Brewers jam and boys

Posted by Gexx on October 25, 2007

Him: “I feel bad, talking to you and keeping you away from your work.”
Me:”You know, having someone where I can look forward to talking to them is actually quite motivating, I feel like I need to get something done because there’s something definate to look forward to.”… especially since he can not only keep up but also contribute to my conversations.

This is a paraphrase of a conversation this past evening between me and a gent I’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time with both in person and on the phone. Label it whatever you want, but I like him and he’s cool.

I’m rather excited, as I was getting to the point where I felt I should start recording my social meetings with the opposite sex and publish them in a book. One with all the proper disclaimers that “they really aren’t real people, if it seems so, it’s all coincidental.”

I met him at Brewer’s Jam. There’s a long story of many levels, as my stories get at times, but the “short” version is as follows:

My friend had relationship problems starting on Monday. Really REALLY bad problems, so we decided to go out Friday Night. She gets nice and trashed on PBR while we see Cutthroat Shamrock and Zombie Bazooka Patrol. While there, we see someone who is mutual friends with her and someone who used to be in the department. We start hanging with their group a bit and find out that those that don’t need to work are going to brewer’s jam. yay!

So we go to Brewer’s Jam and see those guys. Don’t really hang out with them as we have our own group from the department there: S who studies holes in kid’s heads, C the 1st year PhD, friend with problems and her mother, Mssr. E (from past adventures) and see a few others from the department also. We’re all having fun and Mssr. E and I are plesently having random conversations and “cheer”ing sessions with anyone who happens to walk by. My favorite move is to say to some dude passing by “OH MY GOD! YOU MADE IT!!! THAT’S SOOOO AWESOME, MAN!!” and try to get them in a conversation till they realize that they really don’t know me (many actually asked if they knew me) and that I’m just crazy/drunk.

Well, in line this dude is wearing a Tshirt saying something like “Mustache Warrior” or “Mustache Fighting Leaugue” or something related to mustaches and violence. So, like one would do, I say to him “does this mean that you battle mustaches, or that you fight while wearing a mustache.” He brings up some arcane celebration known as Mustache May. A friend and I start psuedoquoting from the Camelot song about May “Well, May is lusty, gusty, and busty. Mustache though, it is not!”

The gent starts hanging out with us. Not uncommon, actually, so I’m just taking it in stride. Always good to meet more interesting people, correct? He and I start talking, and in retrospect, he really doesn’t talk to many others in the group, mostly just me. But I probibly didn’t notice it because the conversation was not forced. It was a pleasent conversation of brewers jam drunk observations, pleasentries about types of beer, random puns, and other such things that are natural in a conversation mit ze Gexx.

After a bit he admits he needs to find the loo, as one would need to at a beer fest. So he asks for my number so he can find us later. We swap numbers. Why not? My drinkaged mind is not phased by such. If anything, I’ll end up putting him in my “do not pick up” phone catagory (specifically for bad/not thinking/”it was a good idea at the time” decision phone number swaps so I don’t accidentally pick up when someone attempts to arrange a booty call). It’s all good. I have planned all my escape routes.

Well, he calls back a bit later to find us. Not right away, but after he hung out with *his* friends for a bit. That’s good, methinks, as it means he’s not creepily obsessed like some odd birds I’ve dealt with (I told you this earlier, I should right a book about all that crap and those crazy dudes). But we do end up meeting again toward the end. When he goes to leave the jam itself, he asks if I would be interested in meeting up later (after we’ve had a chance to sober up some), and I figure why not and tell him to call me.

He then surprises me (those who hate adorableness scroll down. I mean you, Betel!! No, not really.) by asking if I would allow him to kiss me on the cheek before he heads out. I’m so flabbergasted (consider my mental state at the time) and so cynical from past dude-speriances (book! book!) and think that it’s so sweet and at the least it’ll make a good blog story that I agree. And he does. Awwww!

And it has made a good story – but the whole story isn’t done yet.

So beer is running low and Brewer’s Jam is wrapping up. My peeps are coagulating and heading out. My girl with problems and her mom go together, and the rest apparently left for pizza. I was invited, and they all thought that I had been invited, but no one actually completed the inviting circle by telling me what was going on. They left thinking someone else told me and that I was with one of the other groups. No worries, but suddenly they weren’t their. Apparently my missing wasn’t noticed until the couple/three cars (driven by the sobers) got to the pizza place. By that point, it was too late. I see the dudes from the evening before, and they’re like “where’s your crew?” I respond that my posse has abandonded me, but that I’ll just hang at my office till I can drive home. They then invite me to go with them to get pizza (not where the others were, though).

So we go to get pizza, walking through parts of downtown that are perfectly fine to walkthough as a group during the day. We get the pizza and eat it, and I figure we’ll head back soon, no worries, right? Well, they start to drink again. I ask what their plan is. Come to find out they’re friends with one of the waitresses, and that she’ll drive them back to their car when she gets out of work – at 1AM. Gah! It’s 9 right now and I’m ready to pass out (tired, not drunk. i spent the whole day outside!!). I scramble through my phone looking for someone who could be sober and was not out of town. 67 people in my phone, and who do I decide is the best idea? The gent from earlier.

I know many of you will say that I took a bad risk. But getting a taxi would have been too visible, and I didn’t want to walk back alone. I like to say I’m a decent judge of character and don’t often trust people. And I haven’t been too wrong in the past. 99% of people I’ve trusted have atleast been a decent human being with no intent of violence toward me (ax murdering, shooting, etc). Pricks are still decent human beings, in my book, because the important part of their moral compass is still intact. Besides, might as well find out sooner rather than later, right?

I text him “Wouldn’t mind seeing you again, but I’m stuck in Old City, and my car is on campus.” I get a message back saying “I’ll be there in 15 minutes.” After about 15 minutes, he texts saying he’s outside, so I pay my part hastily and run off, thanking the dudes for allowing me to accompany them and sharing their pizza (it was damned good pizza). I bound out and almost knock right into the gent, and he drives me back to my car, like any decent human being would do.

I realize that I just totally used someone’s feelings of good will toward me, and I feel horrendously guilty. Especially since he seemed really really cool while we talked on the ride to my car, so I suggest we get a drink together. We do, and I find out that we’re rather compatable, and we’ve been meeting up and talking on the phone rather much ever since (yay).

So yeah, that’s one of my latest stories. He’ll get a name… eventually. You know it takes a while for that to happen. But I think he’ll be showing up quite a bit.


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