I have been putting this off for a bit. Another “Qdoba Incident,” but not like the complaining incident.
For the past week I have been kicking and calling myself names about how I fucking complained about my “free” burrito I was entitled to. I wondered how she now felt about me. I wanted to know how she felt, but then again I did not want to know how she felt about the last “incident.” I was a mess and felt that I should have let go the error Qdoba caused. It was after all only $ 7.00, but it was 10 prior visits to earn that free burrito.
Now, I have had the past week to reflect, plan, and to ask how to recover from my past incident from my friends. Of course, they laughed and smiled at me when they heard of the “Qdoba incident”
Anyway, I told the story over and over to the people who do not read my blog and I pretty much got the same reaction.
Well, by Wednesday I decided and came to the conclusion of what I needed to do and perhaps what the problem was/is.
I was sober.
Yeah. I was sober and I apparently was trying to score while in a sober state. After all, my past history shows that I have done better with alcohol in my system as opposed to no alcohol when trying to score.
Well, between Wednesday and Friday I had to come to a plan in order to get a drink in me. Do I go to the liquor store and buy a bottle and basically drink behind a tree? Do I go to a local bar? Do I bring a bottle of beer from home? Getting a drink before seeing the Qdoba girl was getting a bit more difficult than I planned to.
Yet, overall when I spoke to my friends about what I planned to do they were in agreement. After all, I am uptight most of the time and a drink would loosen me up - a bit. Be a bit more approachable. Yet, all my friends warned me not to drink too much. I replied that one beer is not going to make me drunk.
So comes Friday and I was ready. It was cold and it was only cold because of the wind. I was freezing. I had to take Light Rail to shorten my trip. I arrived at the place I decided to get a drink. Just a short hop and a skip away from Qdoba’s.
I walked in and saw that I was going to be the only one at the bar. Not a problem since I had a goal in mind and I was not looking for someone at the bar to “hook up” with.
I ordered a draft beer – Odell’s wheat beer. The bartender asks me what size. For a few seconds I wonder, then decided I might as well as go to the largest size available. Why not. After all I am only having one beer. I think it was 33 ounces. Sounds like a lot, but manageable.
While drinking my one beer the bartender made conversation. About biking, then running. I, of course, gave only what was pertinent to the conversation and said no more. The bartender was over 10 years younger than me, but I made sure that I did not come off to conceited or the “I am better than you” attitude, which I am, but know when not to use/say that.
I would say it was about 20 minutes of me sitting at the bar taking my time drinking that tall glass of beer, when I see two blondes take the two bar stools one bar stool away from me. I was about ¾ done with my beer and just minding my business since I had a goal that evening – the Qdoba girl.
I then hear “yeah this guy bikes also” I turn and look at the bartender. The two blondes look at me. Five minutes later everyone was impressed with I do on and off a bike. On how hard-core I am, but do not act like I am hard-core.
I grabbed my mug and see that there are about two swallows of beer left and I have been drinking for about 30 minutes.
Finished. “Well I guess it is time for me to go.”
“Really?” one blonde says.
“Can we buy you another beer?”
About two seconds pass in my mind. Of fucking course, but then the reasoning side of my brain tells me that the Qdoba girl is waiting for me to make an appearance.
I look at my watch, but honestly Readers I did that just for the sakes that I could stay for another drink. After all, I was getting a beer for free! “Well, Ok”
15 minutes after that I had finished another tall glass of Wheat beer and I was starting to feel good.
The bartender comes over and holds out his hand. “Hi, my name’s ##### and thanks for sharing.” Or something very close to that. “I have to close out my drawer now.”
I was taken back for a second or two, but I put out my hand shook his. “My name is Daryl and thanks.” And “here is your tip.”
That was that. Or so I thought. I see him pouring a drink, but not paying attention.
The bartender turns around and says “Here’s one to keep you warm on your ride home.”
I was buzzed, but this shot was going to get me further buzzed.
What the fuck - you only live once.
Needless to say – I said goodbye to the two 21-year-old blondes. After all I had a destiny with the Qdoba girl. Oh yeah Readers, my friends said I should have said at the bar with the two blondes, but again I had a “Friday date” with my Qdoba girl. The two blondes were cute, but not cute enough for me to stay and try to score with one, or both of them.
I got on my bike and proceeded to head to Qdoba’s, but knowing that perhaps I should go straight home due to how buzzed I was getting, on an empty stomach. I do admit I was shakily riding home on my bike. I was nearing Qdoba’s and I literally felt the shot kick in. I saw Qdoba’s and I also saw the path home. I knew I should go home since I did drink more alcohol than I planned to.
At the last second I turned my bike into the parking lot and saw myself pedaling to Qdoba’s
From outside the restaurant I saw my Qdoba girl. I pushed opened the front door, caught the eye of my Qdoba girl and had the biggest alcohol smile on my face. I did the reverse nod to her with a smile on my face and never broke eye contact with her. Even though she did.
Fuck me. The alcohol was in control...
To Be Continued
Until the next time
The Fallen Athlete