So, years ago, I met a guy at a bar. That's how many dating stories begin, right? Well - let me tell you about this one. I was at my local dive bar many years ago having drinks one weekend night with my old roommate. She and I were enjoying our evening with some beers, conversation, and fun. In walked a guy I didn't know, and I could see his reflection in the mirror behind the bar and I thought he was good looking, and had a cool tattoo. Whatever, I wasn't there that night to meet a guy.
Well, the old roommate had to leave, and I stayed behind to hang out with our other friends there. Later that night, I found myself talking to tattoo guy, and then dancing with tattoo guy, and then making out with tattoo guy. Kind of an unexpected turn of events. We had some fun. Nothing more was going to come of our dance-floor make-out - he knew it, I knew it. It was a fun night though. The end.
Or so I thought... Several months later, I was out with the old roommate at another neighborhood bar and in walked tattoo guy. He came up and sat next to my roommate, looked right at me and right through me and said hello to my roommate. He said, "Hello, my name is ..." and gave her a name that wasn't the same name as he gave me. He was literally clueless that he'd already met me using another name. I was flabbergasted. Who was this guy? What was his name? Was he really that clueless? Who knows. My roommate knew who he was, and blew him off.
Hello, your name is Bye Bye.
