Last night, Chef called me out of the blue and told me to get dressed up, he was taking me out. I love it when he gets in those moods, and even though it was 11:30pm, I quickly pulled myself together and was ready when he pulled up on his bike.
We met up with some friends of ours, and it turned out to be a pretty fun night. And, as usual, because of the biker thing, Chef and his brothers were the “bells of the ball”, you might say. Now, this bar/grill wasn’t a normal watering hole for us, so I didn’t recognize any of the people there, like I tend to do at some of our normal hang-outs.
One of the things I find fascinating is to listen to people talk to Chef, and knowing him, I can always tell when they aren’t listening to what he is saying. Last night, a highly inebriated older woman decided to throw her hat in the proverbial ring, even though I was sitting right there. After 20 seconds of conversation, though, I decided this wasn’t even worth getting a twinge of jealousy over. Here’s Chef’s conversation with a hopeful wanna-be-a-biker-chick lady:
Lady: Oh my! I just love motorcycles! (They always start out like that..)
Chef: Is that right?
Lady: (giggling) I’ve had a couple of boyfriends that let me ride with them. I sure miss it!
Chef: I’ll bet you do…
Lady: It would make my whole day if you would give me a ride on yours. I’ve had a really bad week and I came out with my girlfriends to have some fun. They are in there dancing, and I have no one to dance with me…Then I saw you out here and I just knew my whole evening was going to turn out to be fun after all…
Bird: (holding my brain in my skull to keep it from falling on the floor)
Chef: Well, I don’t think I can make your dreams come true tonight, hon…Why don’t you go in there and ask someone to dance with you…
Lady: (over Chef) I won’t fall off your bike because I’ll tell you a secret..I used to ride my own bike back in 1972…It was a (blah, blah, blah…I don’t remember, nor do I care…my brain was leaking…) I know I’m heavy now, but I was really good at it back then when I used to be 100lbs dripping wet..I was so hot then… and I don’t know why I stopped riding. I’m just divorced and I’m planning on marrying a biker this next time around…or you know, just “getting to know” one better, ha,ha..
Chef: You bought your own bike in 1972? Was that why the music died?
Lady: (obviously not listening to Chef) So, what do you think…you gonna give me a ride? (To me) You don’t mind, right, honey?
Chef: No, not tonight. Go back to your friends.
Lady: (giggling) Well, you know where I am when you want to find me..bye, handsome…
Bird to Chef: Did you just tell this woman that because she bought her own bike, the music died?
Bird: Were you insulting her?
Granted, not one the worst insults, or even a very clever one, but hey, he was taken off-guard too, so it quickly was forgotten and we continued visiting with our friends.
Later on in the evening, and a good two and a half hours after that initial encounter, and after an uncomfortable amount of these kinds of encounters from random women sporadically dotting my evening, I came out of the restroom in time to see the same Music Died Lady waving her keys in a menacing manner at a the table of friends Chef and I were sitting at. As I walked out, she quickly made eye contact with me and then grabbed her equally inebriated friend and hustled to their car. (What was that Chef said about my dangerous look???) Walking up, I asked Chef what that was all about.
Chef: She just figured out I was making fun of her about riding her own bike…
Now, that’s drunk, people…