~Thursday, October 27, 2011


A few days later and it was our weekly night at the bar again. I sat at a table with friends. I looked over my shoulder every few minutes. Abraham's game must have gone long. He wasn't here.

I wasn't in the habit of coordinating these nights with him. If one of us couldn't make it, the other would know. But I never checked what time he would get there versus what time I would.

I saw some of his team enter the bar and I felt at ease. His game was over. But still, no sign of Abraham. Other people recognized how distracted I was. I was practically stalking the bar from my seat at the table. Abraham is very easy to pick out of a crowd, which made me even more frustrated.

A girlfriend of mine approached me to say hello. As I saw her and waved, Abraham appeared beside her. We don't do this. We don't talk until the drinking games commence in an hour or so. The girlfriend saw him and darted away so we could talk.

"I couldn't find you," I said, worried.

This time he smiled. The tables had turned since the previous week. "I saw you. I always knew where you were."

He was wearing a different colored shirt than his team colors. It had thrown me off. But still, I should be able to recognize the guy I'm sleeping with.

The conversation was a little stilted. This was new for us, to be together the entire night. Abraham, sensing my hesitation, eventually returned to his team. Suddenly I missed him and wanted to force through the awkward talk.

"Are you coming back?" I cried.


My girlfriend returned to the table.

"Sorry! I saw him and I didn't want to interrupt you two! How are things?"

I clapped and did the little girl squeal. "They're good. They are really, really good!"

"Aw, that's cute!" she said.

As I passed Abraham and his team during my trips to the bar, I'd place on my hand on his back. We haven't been advertising us, but we haven't been hiding it either. It felt good to touch him as I passed him, to  let him know I was there and I saw him. I loved the intimacy of the gesture.

We set up the tables for the games. As usual, I tapped Abraham on the shoulder and he followed me.

"It's your turn Abraham," said the Leader.

I shot Abraham a death stare. That was my name for him.

He shrugged and chuckled. "It's leftover from that prank I played on you."

"Oh, okay."

Abraham would periodically lean in and ask me who the other players were. I'd answer with first names, last names, hobbies and any relevant facts. I never realized how much I had been accepted by the kickballers over the past six months until Abraham noted how much he didn't know playing over the past three years. It mainly speaks to the differences in our personalities: the social butterfly versus the wallflower. But Abraham being by my side every week has brought him into the inner fold of the group. People were talking to him more and more often. He was becoming one of us.

The band began to play and one of Abraham's teammates brought over the demo CD.

"Let me see that. I know that band. I used to drink with one of their singers back in 2006," I said, grabbing the demo CD.

"See! She knows everybody!" said Abraham. It made me feel good that he was impressed.

During the night, underage girls appeared in the bar wearing slutty Halloween costumes. I frowned. It was mid-October; Halloween was still 2 and a half weeks away. The band fell over themselves posing for pictures with the girls and then giving them t-shirts to pass out. I was annoyed. I grew so annoyed that I began tapping my foot on the ground. It's just all so easy to use your youth and your slutty costume to get attention from boys at bars. What I've cultivated--speaking to both the kickball group and Abraham--has taken a lot of time and a lot of work. It wasn't easy for me. And here the entire bar has stopped to pay attention to these two girls.

I was jealous. I was so filled with jealousy that I was angry. The Beautiful Boy crossed the bar to get a free t-shirt from the girls. Abraham watched his friend walk away and looked at me mischievously.

"Go on. I dare you." I said.

Abraham did not go get a free t-shirt.

The novelty of the girls in slutty costumes eventually wore off and everything returned to normal. The band began to play again. The drinking games resumed. My flash of anger was over.

We kept an eye on his watch and once again darted out of the bar early. Before I started going home with him, Abraham and I would stay at the bar for five to eight hours. Now we were averaging two and some change. The pretense of staying out late to spend time with each other was no longer there. We could be much closer at his place.


Bathwater said...

Yes it is too easy, there aught to be a law. Okay I'll be quiet now :)

Je m'appelle Danielle said...

Being closer at home, not to mention saving money on your bar tab. Yes, I'm so cheap that when I read your blog posts I think "Good god, I bet she spends all her monies on booze!!" then I clutch my purse.

Anonymous said...

I like where this is going!

j said...

Love it!

Toddy said...

Oh my my. I've been away from your blog for awhile but it sounds like things are heating up! enjoy it whatever happens next! Cheers, T.

Anonymous said...

Got to be the dissenting voice. It seems a little odd that you guys don't do anything outside of meeting each other at the bar and then going home together. I can only assume that both of you have not been 100% sober around each other. The Sunday in bed was nice, but that only happened because you were at the same red light. I hope there's an actual date coming soon otherwise I think your this guy's sex buddy.

Anonymous said...

I have to agree. You don't really even spend bar night together, you just go home together after you've both been there.
I'm not saying you have to stick like glue to each other, but that combined with the no real dates does make it seem like it might not be going where you want it to.
Then again it could just be developing organically this way. Just keep your eyes open. Anyone that bothers to read or comment, well most of us anyway, are rooting for you and just don't want to see you hurt again.

treacle said...

Sarah, enjoy yourself. Take care of yourself and hit me back my virtual high five! x

LaLa said...

Ok, I'm annoyed. And I come from a place that has been reading your blog since you were dumped by text message and living at your Mother's house.
I hate that we live in a time that texting is considered putting in effort, and I also hate that people like Abraham on the basis of two things 1) his prank, and 2) he was polite and didn't get irritated by your insane drunken vomit fest.
He's already made it obvious the fact you're not Jewish poses barriers, and he's yet to ask you out on a proper date, or be as mature enough to come up to you as soon as he sees you at the bar and say hi.
Expect more, demand more. It's just respecting you to date you if he's wants to tap that, unless you've made it explicit you want it otherwise. He's being lazy. Doesn't seem like much of a gentleman from the South to me.

Northern lass said...

Wow some forthright opinions on here...guess they forget they only read a specially selective part of the tale.

I'm loving the story so far Sarah :)

Hannah Joy Curious said...

One question: are you - both - happy? If so, more power to you girl! I don't get the trolly comments and the multiple moronitude attacks above though. Meh.

treacle said...

I'm with Northern Lass. Besides which, this is all backstory right? Which means you've been sort of seeing him since summer? I'm sure you're capable of deciding who you wish to see and how you wish to conduct your relationship.

D said...

Okay- it all sounds good and I'm liking everything. And though there's more to the story, I also agree that relationships can't really grow if they're set just in a bar and in bed...I mean, it worked in Love And Other Drugs but...I dunno. Be careful but have fun!


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