So, there I was, sitting at the Brahmin, waiting for speed dating to start. The Drunkie's recent outburst made me begin to question what I was actually doing there. However, it did seem to break the tension in the room. We began to laugh at the whole situation and how absurd it was. I goofy-smiled back at Goofy Smile guy. The guys, armed with rum-soaked courage, began to mingle amongst the ladies and sit across from us. We all determined that the Drunkie's tantrum was her own show for the cameras, the joke being on her because they weren't actually on yet. I was praying that neither Townie 1 nor Townie 2 would move their seats over to my table, and my prayers were answered as they were too involved in calling out for more shots and high-fiving each other.
By this point, I was exhausted. It was now coming up to 8:15 p.m. and I was getting sleepy and tired of just sitting around. The only thing stopping me from curling up on the booth bench and taking a nap was a vision of the remnants of vomit and sweat lurking on the vinyl.
And then, a tall, handsome man walked in. He was dressed impeccably. He flashed a killer smile at me as he walked by. He clearly knew the two bartenders, as they said hi to him when he arrived, and he walked over to say hello to them. I couldn't tell if he was there for the speed-dating event, or just to hang out. After speaking with the bartenders for a couple of minutes, he came back over and looked at the food spread (kept minimal so as not to soak up our alcohol content for the show). Then, he came over and sat next to me and said, "Hi, I'm Dre". Dre obviously had also been drinking, and when I questioned him about it, he admitted that he had been to the Bruins game earlier that day and had consumed large amounts of tequila since then.
Dre was charming and handsome, but I very quickly realized that he was the African American equivalent of Crazy Pete. He was very open about sharing facts such as "the number of women I've banged", "how many drinks I've had today", and "the amount of money I've dropped". As I find Crazy Pete-like antics endearing, this was not a complete turnoff for me and I found it more amusing than anything. But, I definitely didn't see any romance in our future.
Since Black Crazy Pete was so drunk in public, I assumed that he was in his 20's. I asked him how old he was and was shocked when he said 41. I asked what he did for work, and he told me that he was a bartender. Imagine my surprise, as the night went on and he admitted that he had gone to Brown. SCREEECH! Back it up. "Why on earth would you waste $250,000 to go to Brown and become a bartender. You can get a college degree anywhere and become a bartender." His answer: Full Academic Scholarship.
Ok, so Black Crazy Pete was growing on me. I hate to think that it was because I realized that he was smart, but I think that's what it was. I dig smart guys. However, I do not dig playboys, and it was clear that that's exactly what he was. He kept telling me that I seemed "proper" and "rigid". That I should give him a shot in the bedroom. He asked me hypothetically speaking, if I were his wife...he would need sex every night. Could I provide that? I get tired of talking to guys when it seems that all they want is in my pants, so after about an hour of speaking with Black Crazy Pete (It's now 9:15 pm, if you're keeping track), I finally yelled out to the Camera Guys that Be and said, "What time are we going to start this thing?" Sensing that I was very close to walking out and that a lot of the girls would be with me, the Camera Guys that Be all answered at once with remarks such as "Thank you so much for your patience." "We're almost all set here" "Just another couple of minutes."
But, you see, even though we actually did start a few minutes later, we were at an awkward impasse. We had all been talking to each other for about an hour and a half. Anything that we were going to learn in 8 minutes, we already knew. And as I mentioned before, the guys had been taking full advantage of the open bar (maybe from nervousness about their television debut), to the point where some were having issues forming coherent sentences and some focusing their eyes in one direction. To make matters worse, when the Date and Dash guy announced that we would be starting soon, Black Crazy Pete yelled out, "What if you've already found your soul mate?" and looked at me. And all the guys said, "awwww." All of the sudden, I was Slater at the Bachelor Auction after Jessi Spano threatened all the girls so that no one would bid on him. So, I finally admitted to myself what I had known all along...this was not going to be a successful speed dating experience.
We went through the motions of speed dating. I spoke with Goofy Smile guy who was weirded out by the whole night and everyone in the room. Lumberjack Flannel tried to fix me up with his friend. Stylish Tall Guy in Awesome Sweater was drunkenly rambling about Elvis and the South or something...I couldn't really follow it. And my last date of the night...Black Crazy Pete.
I ended up giving Black Crazy Pete my phone number, but as I made it quite clear that I don't jump into bed with random guys, I doubt that he will be calling. (It's been a week and a half and he hasn't yet). I did a little bit of googlegating and found out that not only is he a "bartender", he actually owns the bar that he tends at. It's a well known bar in Faneuil Hall and explains the Brown education (and subsequent MBA).
As I left the room, I passed Townie 1 who said, "Hey! I didn't get a chance to talk to you!" And I tossed an "Aw, shucks" over my shoulder.
The night wasn't a total loss however....the Date and Dash guy walked me out and said, "You're so nice. Thank you so much for putting up with all this. I also have a matchmaking business and I'd like to set you up with someone"...so I did get a date out of it, just not the way that I planned.
Boston's Finest premieres on Feb. 27 on TNT, and if you tune in, at some point in the series, you might catch a glimpse of me, scratching my nose or sitting on a bench or something equally exciting. Or, you never know, like Black Crazy Pete, Boston's Finest may leave me on the cutting room floor when they decide there's nothing they can work with.
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