A date, but not mine

The ex-athlete invited E to his house warming party. She decided to give him another try, although she was still skeptical. E knew him much better than I did because he still called her every few days while I only met him that one night. I was a fan of Ex-athlete and I truly believed that E was being too hard on him. I hadn't heard from BDB and pretty much had written that off as a one time thing. The girl who set us up asked him about the date, but she said he's not really telling her anything.

E invited me out to the party with her. She wouldn't know anyone else there and couldn't expect Ex-athlete to spend every moment with her. I saw it as a boyfest-- I could wow Ex-athlete's friends.

He bought E's favorite beer just because she was coming. He gave us the grand tour of his new house. By the end of the tour, I noticed that Ex-athlete had run out of breath and was huffing and puffing a bit. All we did was go up and down two staircases. I mentally giggled and knew E's sensitivity to his weight and that she also noticed this too.

New people arrived and E and I sat out on the balcony while he left to give another tour. No one at the party would talk to us. I thought E would at least get a nod of special attention because she was Ex-athlete's date but his friends never even acknowledged us. I thought they were just socially inept; E thought they were stuck up.

I was particularly dismayed because I was not interested in a single person there-- the party was already a bust with me.

Ex-athlete eventually joined us again. After a long and particularly painful silence I looked up at him, "Hey Ex, tell us a story."

"A story?"

"Yeah."

"What kind of story?"

"Something that will make us laugh."

"I don't have any stories."

"Well, think of an embarrassing moment."

"An embarrassing moment?" He looked around uncomfortably.

"So you're telling me after 26 years, you do not have a single story?"

"No."

I leaned back and sighed. Another silence followed. I quickly finished my beer and got up to get myself another one. I walked inside to his kitchen and slipped. The rest of the party watched as I ungracefully regained my balance. No one laughed. I briefly wondered if I was in a parallel universe, one without puppies and rainbows and laughter.

"I, um, slipped." Everyone continued to stare. "Probably from the rain," I muttered. They went back to their card game. I focused my attention on the keg and pumped.

E walked in to the kitchen to join me and slipped in the exact same spot. One again in dead silence everyone stared at her.

"I did the same thing!" I cried while yanking her into the living room. We sat down on the couch and made fun of CSPAN, which was currently playing on the TV.

Ex-athlete followed us into the living room and turned on the original Nintendo with Super Mario 3 and began to play. He was terrible at it and E and I kept pointing out the hidden aspects that he missed. After 15 minutes of watching the video game, I realized something was missing. It was the old puff puff give. This was the first time I was around a vintage Nintendo without first being offered any substances to make the experience bearable.

The novelty of Super Mario Brothers 3 had quickly worn off. It was E's date, but I was not happy with spending my Saturday night at a party where no one would talk to us and we were forced to watch video games. I looked over at Ex-athlete puffing over the video game. He's still a little boy.

I leaned into E, "Hey, I'm ready to go."

"Me too but it's seriously storming outside."

"You know what? I don't think I care. Maybe if we show up to a bar drenched, someone will take pity on us and buy us a drink."

"What about the thunder and lightning?"

"Your car has rubber tires, we'll be fine."

"It looks like it's letting up. Let's make a break for it."

Ex-athlete, still the gentleman, found us an umbrella and walked us to E's car. I watched as he made his awkward goodbye:

"I'm glad you came out tonight," he said.

"Yeah, I'll talk to you later this week," E said as she ducked in her car before he could do so much as hug her.

I looked at her, "Why did you say that? Now he'll call!"

"What are you supposed to say?"

"How about, 'Have a good night?' That doesn't imply any further contact!"

"Oh. Well crap."

"Now you're going to have to talk to him again," I snickered.

We discussed the multiple failures of the night- the rain, his friends, the damn Nintendo, versus proper dating procedures- while driving off and not ready to give up for the night.