But Sammy whips around.The long-haired woman on the other side is free now; the man she was talking to is gone.And Sammy says something to her.I can see her face in profile as she turns toward him.She smiles.A really big smile.In fact, it’s ahugesmile.Way too big for some stranger you don’t know.Even if he is a little hottie, and you can tell just by looking at him that he’s a sweetheart.I mean, what the fuck was she smiling about?
And then her smile wavers.Dissolves.And she bursts into tears, leaning forward to wrap her arms around Sam’s neck.
That weird, dark flash of irritation is gone, and now I’m grinning as I get out of my seat.The look on that poor boy’s face.He’s trying to keep her upright.She’s trying to collapse on top of him.He’s looking around for help.She’s dragging both of them off their stools.
By the time I reach them, she’s beyond sobbing.She’s blubbering, trying to tell Sam something that is completely unintelligible.I get her around the waist and haul her back onto her stool, and Sam takes the opportunity to break free of her embrace.When she tries to get up, I settle her back onto her seat again.
“There you are,” I say to Sam.“We were looking for you.Come on, we’ve got a table over here.”
Sam stares at me.I stare back until he flushes and mumbles, “Oh.Yeah.Excuse me.”And then I want to die inside because he adds, “Ma’am.”
The woman, though, shoves me away.“I knew you didn’t want to talk to me!”The scream is intelligible, even through a fresh wave of tears.“Nobody wants to talk to me!You’d want to talk to me if I was rich and pretty though!”
I’m starting to get an idea why the other guy left in such a hurry.“That’s usually how it works,” I tell her, and then I grab Sam’s shoulder and steer him back toward the two-top.
Idoglance back, though, and by the time we’re halfway to our table, she’s leaning drunkenly against a fortysomething business type who looks like his little chode is going to pop through his pants.
All is well.Order restored to the singles’ scene.
Sam won’t look at me when I press him into one of the miraculously still-open seats.I flag a waitress, order a couple more beers, and wait.
He does all that self-improvement and bullshit, though, so he’s probably got fucking amazing willpower, and he’s still avoiding my gaze.
“So,” I say, “we learned two things tonight.”
Nothing.
“You are absolutely terrible at that.”I grin.“And you like brunettes.”
It is thedirtiestof looks when he finally pulls his eyes toward me.But then the waitress comes back, and he takes his beer and looks away again.
The music changes to, of all things, Elton John.“Goodbye, Yellow Brick Road.”One of the little college gay bros probably thinks it’s hilarious and retro.
“Come on,” I say.“It wasn’t that bad.”
Sam finally sips his beer.
“You happened to hit a pocket of crazy,” I say.“That happens to everybody.One time, I was at this club in Springfield, and this guy latched on to me for some reason.Saw me across the room and wouldn’t leave me alone after that.Even followed me to my car because he said we had a connection.”
“Let me guess,” Sam says.“You still fucked him.”
I burst out laughing.“Holy shit.Was that bitchy Sam?”
To judge by his face, he can’t decide if he’s mad or embarrassed or considering the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he can laugh about this.He’s trying not to smile as he tips his glass back.When he lowers it, he says, “Did you?”
“Oh, totally.Crazy fucks areinsanelygood.Do you want to hook up with that girl?I bet she’s wild.”
That gets me the serious scowl again.“This is all a joke to you.”
“Calm down.It’s not like I was trying to embarrass you; I thought—I don’t know.I figured you had that whole country boy poon hound thing going on.”
He rolls his eyes.
“Don’t give me that,” I say.“You know what I mean.”
He sets his glass on the table and turns it.A quarter turn.Clockwise.“I tried that,” he finally says.“I didn’t like being that kind of person.”
“And you were shit at it.”
