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Friday Night Special

21 December 2009 4 Comments

Paula - Teasers
I had finished my last exam on Thursday and don’t recall what I did that night. But Friday evening rolled around and I remembered there was a party at a club for all the international exchange students that were supposed to be going back home after the first semester. I was staying for two so it didn’t affect me in anyway, but a party is a party so may as well make a night out of it. Me and a couple of mates met up at a pool hall, I brought a bottle of vodka and two bottles of cranberry juice in a plastic bag. The two of them were already on their way to getting nice and hammered, but I was completely sober. Since we couldn’t drink my stuff at the poolhall because the stuff came from outside the place, we decided to find the club and drink outside. And that’s what we did. Winters in Amsterdam aren’t like I thought they’d be. They’re almost as white as Toronto winters, just with fewer blizzards. Either way, ‘persistence’ was the word of the day that night, and we got nice and drunk, leaving what was left of the cranberry outside to come and pick up later… if we’d remember.

On the way into the club, there was a line-up of mongrels that didn’t know how a line functioned, so everyone ended up shoving and pushing each other. One girl got real crazy and starting trying to get in front me. She had a bottle of wine at hand, which she offered to me as a gesture of appreciation, I guess, which I kindly accepted. I finished the wine and almost got in a fight with someone that thought I was pushing him. Needless to say, we were inside ten minutes later. We went to the coat room and a pretty Dutch girl was there accepted the jackets. I tried to flirt as best I could, and then we went into the smoking area where my mate rolled us something real nice. It was funny, one of the guys we were with never tried the stuff before and wanted to give it a try finally.

We went over to the bar after the session and I called for three beers.

“Don’t yell at me!” the bar-woman said. “There’s a line up.”

I laughed and looked over at the line up, which consisted of a short, over-weight thirty year old munchkin shaking his head at me. That obviously didn’t go down well with me in my drunken state of mind.

“What the fuck you shaking your head for? Get your fucking drink and move on,” I told him. Surprisingly, he didn’t reply and just did as I said.

Then finally we got our drinks from the bar-woman, who I saluted, saying “This drink is to you.” She gave me a dirty look and I went on to walk over to the dancefloor. I got up on he stand where there was more room to move and came up to a girl who I started chatting up. I can’t recall what kind of shit I was saying, but I was there that night to get drunk and have a good time, nothing else was going through my mind. After talking to her, I decided to go find my friend. When I did, I took up to the stand and tried to find the girl I was talking to just a minute ago. I came up to a girl that appeared to be the closet resembles to how I perceived that girl to look.

“Are you the girl I just talked to two minutes ago?”

“No,” was the confused reply.

Okay then, I thought and took two steps right when I bumped into another girl and ended up getting into a conversation with. She then entered her name and number into my phone and was on her way somewhere. I realized that the girls in this place weren’t all that good looking. And I figured out why. Because it was an international party and there was a mix of all kinds of people. I met an assortment of people that night and ran into a few students I had known from class. Funny thing was that I kept losing the mates I had come with and ended up running into them whenever each of us wanted a drink or a smoke.

Finally, at around 5 in the morning, we found each other and decided to call it a night. Back at the coat-room, me having consumed half a bottle of vodka and about four pints, I decided the coat-girl was the best looking girl in the entire club.

After a brief conversation and after she gave me my jacket, I said, “Can I get your number?”

“I have a boyfriend,” was the reply.

And what followed out of my mouth was the most thinkably unsmooth thing a person could say even when he’s drunk: “You have a boyfriend, I got a girlfriend, doesn’t mean we can’t fuck.”

To my surprise, she laughed it off along with me. And then I said, that we should go for lunch sometime and I’ll treat her to some pecan pie and tea.

I’ve never even fucking had pecan pie in my life. In my defence though, I don’t suggest a guy tries to pick up girls when they are in the type of drunk state as I was in that night.

This was all happening while she was working and moving back and forth to and from the customers to the racks. And I don’t know if she found my lame jokes charming, because she came over and gave me her name and number, which I thought would definitely be fake. But I sure as hell had a great time using the lines that I did. Those go down in the history books.

And surely, when I woke up the following day at 9 at night, I decided to test out the number she gave me. It was real… and we ended up chatting for quite a bit, now finally being able to speak coherently in my sober state. We ended the conversation, deciding to meet later that week, since she was working that entire weekend.

So I guess the point of this story is that good times happen when you’re persistent on getting what you want, and don’t give a shit in the process. Sometimes you do things that are completely against everything any pick-up artist would tell you to do, and you still come out on top… usually having more fun in the process.

4 Comments »

  • Tyler said:

    That’s what I call a friday night out Robby! I want to come party with you sometime. Waking up at 9PM after partying all morning! You’re crazy man. Good luck with that coat-girl. How was the other girl whose number you got earlier at the night?

  • Robby G (author) said:

    @Tyler: Thanks, I talked to the coat-girl when I woke up that night and since I was already sober I was able to be more smooth in the way I spoke rather than sheer disregard for anything at all. It was a great night though and you can come party any time! As for the other girl, she was okay but nothing special. When she was giving me the number, she filled out her full name, so it was easy to see what she looked like when I was sober by checking on Facebook. She’d be fine for one night but I rather pursue the coat-girl a bit more. Cheers!

  • Kurtis Joseph's grandma said:

    Dear Robby,

    I’ve been following your blog for some time now and must say that while I’d never have the balls to think of some of the stuff you do (let alone DO some of the stuff you do), I enjoy living vicariously through you ever so much. You take me to places that I only see in the movies. When I come visit you in Amsterdam, sometime in late spring/early summer, you must take me around and teach me the way of the boss.

    Your faithful reader,

    KJG.

  • Robby G (author) said:

    @KJG: Live vicariously through me, huh? Damn, come down to Amsterdam and that’ll all change. Glad that I provide some entertainment none-the-less with the sometimes thoughtless and sometimes reckless things I do and live to write about. That other night with the Hell’s Angels really could have ended much worse than it did, good thing he was Danish, I guess. 😛


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