The Romantic Side Of G

One Friday we didn't have band practice so G and I went downtown to a bar to meet the Drummer and his fiancé for some beers. When we arrived we got about one step inside and immediately noticed someone was having a really good time. This loud, obnoxious voice and laugh could be heard over all other sounds in the place. We looked at each other and G laughed and said, "We'll end up with that one. It feels like that kind of night." I always hated when he said stuff like that. It usually came true.

After we grabbed a brew we started going through the place to find the Drummer and his girl. The more we searched, the closer we came to the loud person. Finally we found them at a table and, of course, the loud person was at the table with them. Turns out the fiancé had brought a friend along. She was a big girl, not the fat kind. More like the Russian stereotype, very bulky, strong looking with a huge mouth that when it was opened all the way, her face disappeared. Just a large person.

G immediately said to them, "If I knew you had brought the human bullhorn along, we could've found you quicker by following the noise." We hadn't even been introduced to the friend yet and G was insulting her. I could tell the girl was going to bug G so I did what any good friend would do in that situation, I sat at the only chair available opposite her leaving the seat next to her the last available. See, I'm a good friend.

After a little while and a bit more booze, the loud girl was getting even more obnoxious. The whole time G was picking at her, asking questions like, "How's the weather in Moscow these days?" and "How much Ridilin would it take to make you human again?" you know, the typical flirtatious kind of stuff you always hear in pick-up bars.

At some point a friend came by and she wanted me to go to the bar and do some Margarita slammers with her, so me being the accommodating friend that I am, I was forced to assist my friend with her excursion through the crowd.

After being away for maybe a ½ hour, I came back to a completely different scene. I got to the table just in time to see the Russian nibbling on G’s ear. And he seemed pretty cozy with her, letting her go for it. I stood stunned for a long enough period that he noticed. As soon as the Russian went to the can, I started to ask WTF, but G cut me off immediately and started to say stuff like, “I think I’m gonna.” And “Don’t rain on my parade, man!” Once the ‘rain on my parade’ thing came out, I was sure there was no going back, so I left it alone.

I sat and took in the scene for maybe another hour before I had to leave. The Russian became more boisterous and loud and once they started making out, I decided to go. I thought she was going to swallow his whole face when she was kissing him. It was gross. Even the Drummer and fiancé would look over and just roll their eyes. G had been nothing but rude to her, but here they were, doing the bunny imitation. Yep, I left.

I didn’t see any of them again until Sunday afternoon. G had even cancelled our Saturday morning recording session. Weird. Sunday came and I headed to his house. As I was walking up toward his porch, I noticed 2 things; his parents were there and the Russian was walking toward me leaving. I started to say hello, but she gave me a look that scared me, grunted something like ‘freakin musicians’, and stomped on past. As I got to the house, I saw G and his parents on the porch. I went up and greeted them, (G’s parents are awesome people) and his Dad started laughing, asking me if G had introduced me to ‘his new girl’. Apparently G had tried to introduce her to them, but he had neglected to find out one important part of the introduction process; what the girls name was. She had been with him all weekend, had provided as much sex as G could stand, had been using a credit card to buy everything for him and the Drummer w/fiancé including most of the bar tab Friday, breakfast and dinner Saturday, brunch Sunday, and G had no idea who she was. His Dad had a good laugh at him for it. His Mom didn’t.

I just patted him on the back and told him that maybe he should keep using the insulting pick-up lines because he had done pretty well and didn’t have to call her again, since he had no idea what her name was anyway.

Epilogue: The Russian did return to G’s house about a month later. She just showed up and G told me that he was trying to make conversation with her for about 20 minutes when she said “Hey, I’m not here to talk. Are we gonna fuck or what?” He did learn her name this time though.