Monday, January 30, 2006
January 26: Key West: Night 2: I am a Great American!
After changing from the cruise, Liz and I walked down to Sloppy Joe's for a snack and drinks. I actually ordered a sloppy joe...it was quite delish!
I know I have a rule about blogging about boys, but this night was waaaay to entertaining to ignore. So we're sitting at a table by the door, and a group of men come in. They start talking talking to us. They're nice but pretty drunk, so we ask for our check with the next beer to move to a different table (we wanted them to hear the check request and take a hint). The waitress informed us they had picked up our tab, and we were all set. They left us alone anyway, so we stayed at the table.
I later bumped into one of them by the dance floor. He was very nice and good looking, but definitely lacking in the intelligence category. This, of course, makes for high entertainment near the high seas. Please share with me:
-- His opening line to me was, "I love your hair. I could do a triple lindy off of it." (Hunhhh?)
-- "Do you look in the mirror every day and say, "I am a GREAT American?"
-- His friend, noting his height (about 6'6") and mine: "If you two have kids, they will be in the NBA or NFL."
My response: "Good, because they probably won't be getting in to MIT."
-- "You know why I'm successful? Because I've got brains (madly taps temple), and heart (madly taps chest). I've got both (taps both manically...he may have been trying to communicate via morse code. I have no idea).
-- "You have the best hair. People pay thousands of dollars for hair like that." (For those that have never had a perm, I'm guessing a good one costs about $100).
-- "I'm in the CIA" (Wait...this is after telling me he was from Canada. My response: "The Canadian Intelligence Agency?")
-- "I can spot a Vietnam Vet a mile away. (Pokes older man walk by) You were in 'Nam, weren't you?" (crazy thing is that the guy really was in the war, and MensaBoy had never met him before).
-- "You must have gone to the best college. What is that one....Princeton?"
Me: "What exactly about me looks WASPish?"
-- Gotta note here that he told me his life story many times. ("I'm the youngest of eight boys. I had to fight!" He'd making little fighting gestures. He was quite the thespian.)
-- "I'm old enough to be your father!"
Me: "You're 40. I'm 32."
Him: "So when I was 12 years old, doing my paper route, you were 3!"
Me: "No, I was 4."
Like I wrote, he was entertaining and not bad to look at, so I hung out with him for a bit, but eventually tired of his antics and went to sit down. When I'd look at the dance floor, he'd just be standing there, fist to the ceiling. Oh! And he kept getting in a three-point stance. I shit you not. Remembering back to his glory days of college football.
I have finally decided it is time to have my Loser Magnet surgically removed. I'll let y'all know how the operation goes.