Still suffering from the punch seen round the world, I decide home base will not do on a cool north Texas evening. By cool I mean not sweltering. The temps when I left the house were 78 and dropping. Low of 66 expected. I'm good with that.
As I head west, my destination is clear. I'm heading back to a bar that I'm slowly falling in love with. It's an upscale sports bar in a real "trendy" part of Plano. Lots of new developement, high end apts, mediocre condos and an obscene amount of shopping surrounds. Not to mention a bevy of attractive women in search of a cosmo after a hard day of indebting their credit cards.
Bartender greets me with a smile, and asks what I'll be having. Beer and a shot I say, as a test to see if she remembers me. No hesitation, she comes through with a Bud (draught) and double shot of Jager for the old school. She remembers me. A healthy tip goes a long way with the service industry.
Impressed with her memory I attempt to ask about her day but I'm cut off quick. "Nice spread option" she says. A simple grin crowns her as victorious. Not only does she recall my flavor of demons, she remembers my team. A true professional in a whirlwind of people she tends to every shift.
My non-evasive eye roll and sigh of defeat is mine to own and she knows it. I like this girl.
As she briskly walks away to the next mark wanting a drink, I settle into my own. With the one and only goal of a healthy alcohol buzz, I drink.
Alone at the bar, no friends in tow. I survey the screens for any games I'm interested in to pass the time.
Sensing my boredom she comes back around to engage me.
She knows why I'm here.
The week prior I met a friend of hers at this very bar.
Long story short, I was enjoying a few too many.
A tornado of a woman came in to the bar with a similar goal in mind.
Pound a few drinks and let the days worries reside.
After a few heated exchanges about politics, sports and lifes lessons. We hit it off.
Her name was Dallas. From Dallas.
Attraction busting at the seams we set out on what would be the wildest night I've spent in Dallas. I'll spare you from the details of the elicit drugs, hungry embraces and poor decisions of the night. But I will tell you this, she was Rock n Roll. And I liked it.
Hungry for a second serving of that woman, I dare ask where she is... "She's at home with her boyfriend"...
With a nod a smirk, I can tell my tender knows the back story. She retains my eye contact for a second.
"She'll be back this coming... "
I hold up my hand before she can finish.
It's not a big deal.
She questions me with her eyes.
Mine gave her, her answer...
After watching quality in action I wasnt in search of the party known as Dallas, from Dallas. I was interested in the girl who remembered my drink. And my team. She is a professional.
She'll bring me back.
On my drive back, I had a song stuck in my head for Dallas, from Dallas... Dirty Girl..
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Martini bars and bootleg shoes.
I've always been a sucker for a professional woman in business casual attire. Educated, driven and almost always up for a good conversation. It really helps when they're smokin hot too.
Last night I drove aimlessly towards the business district in Plano. Searching out a new and exciting place to meet these professional types. Nearing the Nationwide insurance headquarters I see a nice little place that looked a little out of my league. Perfect. As I walk through the doors I'm immediately impressed by the men to women ratio. About 50-50. That's rare in a bar scene.
Wearing a a dark green shirt that reads "AUTZEN" across the chest, khaki shorts and my trusty flip-flops I head to the bar. Drawing glares and looks of disgust from the corporate douche bags who bathed in cologne before arriving. I shrug'em off. Not here for douche bags. At the bar I try to order a Budweiser. Draught please. "We dont serve that here" says the angry little man behind the bar. Ofcourse not. I settle on a Stella.
To my right is a group of women in their 30's maybe early 40's. After establishing direct eye contact I initiate the pleasantries, "Hi ladies" "How is your evening" and so on. They appear to be intrigued by the large male that hasn't shaved in a week and looks like he could have been doing yard work prior to his arrival. After establishing that I may only look like a Neanderthal, we set in on what would be an hour and half of massive booze consumption, funny stories and ideas. Knowing that my reluctance to leave the side of beautiful women and laughter has been the cause of serious ramifications in the past. Not only with what might be considered a sin by some but also with the local police. They tend frown upon driving shitfaced. I understand, and agree. So I leave. Walking back toward the door I'm met with even more glares from the cologne drinkers but with a sense of a small victory, I return their scornful looks back to them. The "Dude"-1 Corporate douche bags-0.
Lightly buzzed and feeling good about an evening well spent, I head to my truck. Sitting outside in the back of a black Cadillac Escalade is a nice African American gentleman that looks like he should be in a rap video. Curiosity has almost been the death of this cat on quite a few occasions, so I have to stop and see what he's up to. "Yous need sum shoes man?" The rapper says to me. I could always use some shoes I say, but I bet you dont have my size. You see I have a large foot, rapper, I doubt you've really got "what I need". Just for sport I tell him my size. He disappears through one of the side doors digging around in what was an astonishing assortment of shoes in varies diffent sizes. He resurfaces holding in his hand a spankin new pair of white Addidas. Size 16. Impressive rapper. He wants 40, I offer 20. "Deal!" Says the rapper.
New shoes in tow, I head back to the 'burbs. Thinking to myself, is this a place I can frequent? The shock value of being dreadfully under dressed wont have the same effect week in and week out. Ive got the clothing to look the part, but its goddamn hot here in Texas. Maybe this winter when it gets cold for a month, I'll go back. Until then, there's hundreds of different locations to try and millions of women to meet. Life is only as dull as you make it.
Last night I drove aimlessly towards the business district in Plano. Searching out a new and exciting place to meet these professional types. Nearing the Nationwide insurance headquarters I see a nice little place that looked a little out of my league. Perfect. As I walk through the doors I'm immediately impressed by the men to women ratio. About 50-50. That's rare in a bar scene.
Wearing a a dark green shirt that reads "AUTZEN" across the chest, khaki shorts and my trusty flip-flops I head to the bar. Drawing glares and looks of disgust from the corporate douche bags who bathed in cologne before arriving. I shrug'em off. Not here for douche bags. At the bar I try to order a Budweiser. Draught please. "We dont serve that here" says the angry little man behind the bar. Ofcourse not. I settle on a Stella.
To my right is a group of women in their 30's maybe early 40's. After establishing direct eye contact I initiate the pleasantries, "Hi ladies" "How is your evening" and so on. They appear to be intrigued by the large male that hasn't shaved in a week and looks like he could have been doing yard work prior to his arrival. After establishing that I may only look like a Neanderthal, we set in on what would be an hour and half of massive booze consumption, funny stories and ideas. Knowing that my reluctance to leave the side of beautiful women and laughter has been the cause of serious ramifications in the past. Not only with what might be considered a sin by some but also with the local police. They tend frown upon driving shitfaced. I understand, and agree. So I leave. Walking back toward the door I'm met with even more glares from the cologne drinkers but with a sense of a small victory, I return their scornful looks back to them. The "Dude"-1 Corporate douche bags-0.
Lightly buzzed and feeling good about an evening well spent, I head to my truck. Sitting outside in the back of a black Cadillac Escalade is a nice African American gentleman that looks like he should be in a rap video. Curiosity has almost been the death of this cat on quite a few occasions, so I have to stop and see what he's up to. "Yous need sum shoes man?" The rapper says to me. I could always use some shoes I say, but I bet you dont have my size. You see I have a large foot, rapper, I doubt you've really got "what I need". Just for sport I tell him my size. He disappears through one of the side doors digging around in what was an astonishing assortment of shoes in varies diffent sizes. He resurfaces holding in his hand a spankin new pair of white Addidas. Size 16. Impressive rapper. He wants 40, I offer 20. "Deal!" Says the rapper.
New shoes in tow, I head back to the 'burbs. Thinking to myself, is this a place I can frequent? The shock value of being dreadfully under dressed wont have the same effect week in and week out. Ive got the clothing to look the part, but its goddamn hot here in Texas. Maybe this winter when it gets cold for a month, I'll go back. Until then, there's hundreds of different locations to try and millions of women to meet. Life is only as dull as you make it.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Introduction
I decided to start this blog so I could detail the daily oddities I run into here In the Dallas-Ft.Worth area. This is an amazing metroplex that blows my mind every day. Moving from Eugene Oregon to Dallas Texas, was an adventure in its self. Trying to establish a friend base and build my company has so far been a trying experience. I'll utilize this page to vent my frustrations and happiness for you to enjoy.
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