I got 'em.
"Would you like to go see The Dark Knight on Sunday?"
"Sure, I'd love to."
It was the most effortless of ways I got asked out. There I was, standing with a beer in my hand at a local outdoor bar. The night was winding down, surely it must have been well after midnight and I had to excuse myself for a minute to go to the bathroom. My friends were left behind, nursing their drinks as I pushed myself through a small crowd of people towards the restrooms.
Once inside, I took a deep breath and paused for a moment, glanced at myself in the bathroom mirror. Earlier on in the night, through a little birdie, I found out that The Artist got himself a girlfriend. And here I was, like a fool, standing in the bathroom, still thinking about him, still as captivated by him as I was five months ago, when I met him for the first time.
What was it about this boy that got me so stuck on him? Was it his looks, his personality, or his rejection of my advances? Maybe it was all three. But last night, none of those reasons mattered because the reality of the situation was that I still held a spot in my heart for someone who will never be anything more than a casual friend.
As I shoved the thoughts about The Artist towards the back of my mind, I walked out of the bathroom with a more clear head and a better perspective on things.
While I was contemplating unavailable men in the depths of the restroom, my friends' new neighbor arrived to the bar. A cute guy, I noticed him right away. As we were formally introduced, The Neighbor and friends continued the conversation they started without me, but after a few minutes, it was just me and him - talking about God knows what, but talking, laughing, and maybe even flirting a little.
And then as the bar was closing, and the bouncers were ushering people out, he mentioned something about "the new Batman movie". He said he saw it and, apparently, it was really good.
"Damn it, it looks like I'm the last person on Earth who has yet to see it," I lamented out loud.
"Well, I wouldn't mind seeing it again. Wanna go see it on Sunday?" The Neighbor asked.
"Sunday sounds good. I'd love to."
As I walked back home after we all left the bar, I couldn't help but laugh at myself. Laugh at this funny thing called life that seems to hand me lemonade right after it throws lemons at me. As Voltaire wisely put it centuries ago, "God is a comedian playing to an audience too afraid to laugh." And I don't know if there is God or not, but if there is - last night I wasn't afraid to laugh with him.