NBK in Alberta: On the Pool Prowl
When we left off last week, LunarCircus had just spotted a dreamboat across the room. Find out what happened next in this week's installment of NBK in Alberta! —Sparkitors
So where was I?
*puts down quadruple-fudge brownie*
...Oh yeah! There I was, sitting in a dimly lit booth with my two best gal-buddies, when I glanced over at the pool tables and saw HIM. And good GOLLY was he gorgeous. Now, this came as a large surprise to me because, for whatever reason, I’ve never found most gay guys attractive. I’m not a shallow person—I swear!—but any men I’ve fallen for in the past have been straight. Double sad face :( :(
Anyway, this particular cutlet of man-meat had everything: dark and floppy hair, big build, defined jaw-line. It was like he walked out of a Brad Pitt movie, but with better hair and without the nasty old-man beard. I know you can’t tell if someone’s intelligent/nice just by looking at him, but he had that air about him, y’know? He wasn’t sexy. He wasn’t cute. He wasn’t even hot. He was... handsome, and that’s really the only word that does him justice. But you want to know the best part? He was wearing FLANNEL! With the sleeves ROLLED UP! AMAGAWSH there is nothing more smexy than flannel, people. All you Manklers out there, take note.
Now, being the nerd that I am, I could not gaze upon another human being with such a burning flagrancy without calling to mind the immortal words of one Sheldon Cooper:
“Oh look. There's a sexually attractive line segment. You should chat her up, tell her you're a circle. FlatLand gals are all hot for circles."
...And that is why I have Never Been Kissed. So I sat there with my gal-buddies, sipping my cooler and staring at this man for the entirety of the night, waiting until I could get up enough courage to chat him up. If only evolution had progressed far enough to let me transmit my interest telepathically. Flirting would be so much easier! Never mind that I was staring with all the subtlety of a bull in a candy shop (see what I did there?). Eventually the friend he was playing pool with left, and he stood there alone, bouncing the cue ball back and forth on the side of the table. So I seized my chance. With my gal-buddies practically kicking me out of my seat, I swaggered over to him with my pick-up line ready. Being the socially adept person that I am, it went something like this:
“Hey, you need an extra player?”
Not bad, right? I didn’t think so either. Alas, my masculine wiles must need some work.
“Actually, my friend just went to get change, so...”
“Okay,” I said, and looked down at my shoes. He rejected me, Sparklers! But he was so preeeettyyyy!! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!! Of course, Providence was entirely on my side, because insult was not added to injury. No siree. I absolutely did NOT back up awkwardly into a pile of pool cues and send them all clattering to the floor. Thank God that everyone in the bar didn’t turn their heads and stare at the guy who just doubly made a fool of himself. Man. Could you imagine if that happened? That would really suck.
The gal-buddies and I decided to head home. I wouldn’t call it a successful first night out, but we still had some fun, and we got a good story out of it... but that's nothing compared to the poker night. Or more aptly, The Poker Night with Gay Friends!
Dun dun duuuuh!!
P.S. I want to thank all you Sparklers/Manklers/whatever-klers out there for your lovely comments last week! You almost made me cry. We should have a potluck! I’ll bring the brownies :D
We think LunarCircus is really brave for talking to his crush in the first place, no matter what the outcome! Agree?
Related post: NBK in Alberta: Then He Saw HIM