Despite the fact that he goes to UF, his parents live Atlanta, meaning during his college breaks, he comes back up to my neck of the woods. When he's in town, we get together and end up in some unplanned, ridiculous adventure. What's best, it's always natural and genuine, even though it only happens a couple of times a year.
This time, while Albert was in town for Thanksgiving, we decided to go ice skating at The Rink at Park Tavern. I was so, so excited when I learned that Atlanta got this public, seasonal skating rink and Albert had never been ice skating before, so it was a perfect New Thing adventure for the both of us.
He was pretty nervous about this skating thing so before we donned our skates, we had a couple drinks at the bar to loosen up. This obviously did the opposite calming our nerves, and made us both more nervous and hyped up the experience.
With much fanfare and anticipation, we laced up our skates and hit the ice, and, of course, Albert was a natural and I was dreadful. I was parked up close to the side wall, clutching for dear life, pulling myself forward while shuffling my feet, and Albert was out practically speed skating past me with the greatest of ease.
Sweet turn of events.
I eventually got my rhythm back as the booze wore off, and thoroughly enjoyed playing and posing and being silly and all that comes with ice skating comedy.
|And now she's down...|
We took a break to enjoy a Drunken Girl Scout, hot chocolate concoction and hit the ice for a last hoorah. We got so good that we were out-skating all the other 8 people on the rink.
|Drunken Girl Scouts, pinkies out|
I think I may have gone to a gay bar once before, but I don't remember the experience very well, so I'm counting this as a New Thing too.
We walked up the road a couple of blocks to a bar called Blake's. Albert gave me a warning, saying, "This is where all the pretty gays are."
I was simultaneously excited and anxious. I was looking pretty ratty in a gray sweater and jeans, however, none of the men in this bar care. They're not looking at me to get with me, not even there to look at me. I am, at most, a dance partner to wiggle past through the crowd.
Somehow, and I can't identify when it happened, Albert got the impression that I was cool. Cool enough to score him a cute guy. Cool enough to be a wing woman. Now, the only cute guy I've ever scored is the one I'm currently dating, so this seemed like a stretch for me. But I was dancing my butt off and having a really good time and the gays were all about me, so I thought I'd give it a shot.
Albert said, "Guy in the glasses at your 7:00, GO."
And go, I did. I danced my way into his little heart, pulled in Albert to the scene, started the conversation (Guy in the glasses has a blog!! It's way better than mine, check it out, What Now Atlanta?), and dipped out of their blossoming interest just in time to dance with another guy. As a first-time wing-woman to a gay guy, I think I did better than I could have ever, ever, ever expected.
At the end of the night, they traded numbers, hugged, and my little heart was a-flutter. Albert was glowing, and I had a night not to be forgotten.
And that was my super-awesomely-gay-ice-skating-gay-bar-wing-womaning adventure.