I remembered her from when she picked up her tickets. Shew as dressed like Leslie Mann in the 40 year old virgin. She asked me for a pen and paper. I gave her an empty envelope and the bic disposable at the desk. She scrawled something on the envelope,then slid it back through the slot and asked me if i could read it.
I have never tried to test whether inebriation affects hand writing. Now i never ahve to. It was an exercize in trying to regain her precision muscle control. The writing was in cursive and barely scratched out that she was a friend of a producer of the show and her phone number. She asked me if it was legible, so i read it back to her.
I tried to give it back to her and she looke dconfused. "It'ssss for you," she slurred. Did she want me to give this to someone inthe show? What was she trying to do? "You want me to give this to who?" I asked. Really. I asked that. I hadn't caught on what was happening yet, and I just had no idea how to process what was going on, much less react. None.
She asked for it back and wrote somethign on the back... kinda. The closest word to that scribble was "Constantine," which apparently there is a cast memeber named that... some American Idol guy. No clue, but it really didn't say constantine. It didn't really say anything. I asked her if she wanted me to get her number to Constantine. She looked confused at me, which was only fair cuz i was looking confused at her. I remember finding it odd that she hadn't written her name on it, but rahter a bunch of information about her.
She asked for it back and tore it up. She out it back in the window, sighed, and said "I had to try" before moping off. I was goignto tell her that if she anted to get a note to a cast member, she should try to give it to a cast member, when it hit me. She was giving me her number. I had no idea. Not a damn clue. NOT A CLUE.
I felt bad. I realize my confustion may have come off a sa a littel insulting to her. I really didn't mean it liek like. The truth is... I am not teh kind of guy who has aever ahd a lot of random women give me their phone numbers. I was as well prepared for that as i would be for emvergency brain surgery or fighting off aliens. Hell, I probably would ahve been a little better and brian surgery than that encounter.
So, to the inebriated lady out there who thought i was hot enough to try and give me your number... I am sorry. I didn't mean to handle it as awkwardly as i did. I was very flattered by it afterward. I am marreid, so nothing was to come of it... but still, I didn't mean to come off shitty about it, and I am fearful that I did. So I'm sorry.
Also, those beer goggles are lying to you. I am not nearly as hot as you remember me through your headache this morning. You dodged a bullet there.