What About Bob

You guys, I cannot believe I forgot to tell you about Bob. Last Wednesday two of the other Go to Girls and I were at Shanahan’s earlier than the rest of the group so we had the pleasure of meeting Bob.

The Dreamer, The Girl Next Door and I are enjoying our first beverage of the night when Bob stumbled past us on his way out for a cigarette. I’d say Bob is oh… about 102 years old. He staggered his drunk ass back to our table (the big round one for those in the know) and leaned in to pay us a compliment “you ladiesh are haaat. Don’t lesh anyone in here tell you (bobble), tell you diff’ent.”  Hearing a drunken 102 year old man use the word hot in that sense was actually pretty hysterical. We thanked him and he returned to his original task of smoking. But of course, he had to come back in which meant he had to pass our table again. This time we learned that he’s regular, this piece of information made the three of us stare blankly at each other for a moment because, um…we’re pretty damned regular and had never seen this character before in our lives. But whatever, Bob’s a regular. We went about our business for a while and then it was time for another smoke break. Of course he stopped by our table again, and this time he had and offer he was sure we couldn’t refuse. “I live with my daughter and watch my grandson mosh days exchept Wednesdays. How about we go back there and have a foursome?”

What? The? Fuck?

Naturally this cracked us up; we just got asked by a 102 year old drunk guy to be in a foursome. Now that’s a first! And fuckin’ funny!

But then I started thinking, wait? He’s old and drunk, so of course we look good to him. Er, could this be why reasonably aged, mildly buzzed guys don’t hit on us??! Are we that wrecked? Oh hell. This just took a turn from funny to depressing. I ordered another the glass of wine so I could drink until we were cute.

Bob stumbled back in, apparently while he was smoking he came up with a better idea, “ladiesh, my gran’shon is probably home so inshted wish one of you is taking (wobble), taking meee home wishyoo?” I briefly contemplated ways I could just off myself; unfortunately I’m not McGuiver and could not figure out how to do it with a ketchup jar, napkin holder, and Tabasco bottle. While Bob’s proposition was again funny and depressing, it was getting old, we had some serious official Happy Hour Hot Topics business to get to and Bob was impeding our progress.

Fortunately the rest of the group started filtering in and Bob found himself a distraction with a game of pool so we had an hour or so to tackle the serious business of doling out relationship advice. We solved some rather complicated problems for people. What?! “Do guys notice a stray hair…” is complicated. Shut up.

Anyway, Bob made one more appearance at the table, our gentlemanly One Night Stand made himself more useful than most of them and dismissed Bob. But Bob wasn’t having it; he made his way to our side of the table, pointed at our One Night Stand and slurred “he doshen’t have a clue. He doeshen’t even know” like we all shared some connection and secret.

Bob left; I hit the lady’s room, returned and ordered another class of wine because I still hadn’t managed to drink until we were as hot as Bob believed us to be.

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  1. I was wondering about the Bob story… I definitely thought is was blog worthy! Have fun tonight….. Can’t wait to see tomorrows blog:)

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