Opposites Attractive

Honestly, kids, I don't know what the fuck to tell you. Best I can do, far as I figure, is let you know what happened and let you draw your own conclusions.

To begin with: the game. We're short a couple people, so we have somebody come in. Her name is Jennifer, and she used to play for USD's softball team. But since girls can't pitch, we put her in right. I keed, I keed. I'm borderline in love with her anyway, since she's blonde, ridiculously tall (Aaron said 5'10", I thought closer to 6"), and athletic, with a sense of humor. ANYhow, a couple guys come in right under the wire as is our custom, and we're playing the best team in the league. Before the game I was debating my "they got us beat on paper, but last I checked they don't measure heart on paper" speech I'd heard somewhere, but stowed it.

Some math even I know:

Constant fielding errors
+ best team in the league
__________________
19 -4 curbstomp

For Aaron, the speech I would've given if the team hadn't broken up faster than you can say Destiny's Child: we wanted to know where we are, now we know. We're #2 in the league. They beat us as much as we did. When playoff time comes around and we got a full roster, we'll see how it shakes out then.

When a man is depressed, there's only a handful of things to do.

After suffering through the wiggeriest wigger at Trophy's, Aaron and I go to Hooters. And things get out of control. First off, one of the waitresses looks like one of my bosses. Same hair style, same coloration, same fucking initial for her first name. So lucky she didn't work our table--

"Hi, can I help you guys?"

"Yes, you WAUGHHHHHHHHH!"

She's close to the area, though, and every time she goes by I feel a little weird.

Second of all, our waitress recognizes Aaron. She said she's seen him in before, which she has--back in July, the last time he was in any area Hooters. And he's wearing a hat. And he was sitting with me then, too! What am I, glass?

Thirdly, most importantly, most vexingly--wow, this post has a metric shitload of commas. Anyway, the whole point of a place like Hooters is to let the libido go without consequence or afterthought. You go for breasts and hope you don't find anything in the food. They know, you know, and as a result you can all have a laugh about it and dodge the fact you didn't have enough scratch to go to a strip club and really see something.

You're not supposed to go "Aww!" at Hooters.

Of course, it's what Aaron & I end up doing all night. They had a cute brunette with some blonde streaks in there, and she's tiny. So tiny I just italicized. So tiny, me--ME--looked at her and went "WOW, she is tiny." It's very Lacey Chabert, and we end up ignoring our waitress when she's not taking our orders or bringing our food to look at this waitresses because it's cuter than a 3-legged puppy fresh from the pound. She lifts a stool, it looks like one of those guys on ESPN8 throwing a refrigerator. She takes two orders at once and we're afraid she's going to tip over and fall. I mean, it's hard to muster up the proper lust for somebody when all you want to do is make them some cocoa and give them a playful punch on the chin.

So, anyway, due to his height, Aaron gets a picture with her. Sorry it's blurry.

He leaves, and I ask him an obvious question. He didn't get her name. Dumas. But then I ask him, the fucking monolith, how tall she is.

4'8", he says. Maybe even 4'6".

Good. LORD.

I am suddenly, viciously, violently, in love with her all over again. 4'8", maybe? 4'6"? Is that even legal? It's like I say about Shakira--you gotta love it when a girl's 4'11" and 3'7" of it's ass, you really gotta love it when a girl is 4'7" and 4' of it is rack. And then, because it's how I'm wired I spend the rest of the night in Lewis Blackville. Probably my dreams and tomorrow, too.

And I flip back, and she's playing softball and her hair's down, and then I flip back, and she's so small all you can see is her head and the sneakers, and I flip back and she's throwing a rope to 3rd, and I flip back--she's next to our waitress and she barely comes up to the chestline, and I flip back and it's tall blonde and I flip back and it's short brunette and finally I just threw my hands up and went WHICH ONE DO I WANT TO PLOW FIRST?!

And right before I passed out, I thought 'If it weren't for my horse...'

This post is brought to you BAH: "Blown Wide Open" by Big Wreck