Wing Girl

Over the course of the semester, my housemate Alissa has slowly become my wing girl. I think it pretty much started when I said something about a lack of male dancing partners when we go to the clubs. She rolled her eyes at me and informed me that I had apparently been blowing off guys when we went out to clubs and I was remarkably unaware. What can I say; I didn't realize that I'm apparently supposed continually glance behind me while I dance so I'll actually know when there's a guy trying to dance right behind me. Apparently I'd been ignoring a bunch of them (oops). As a general rule, I'd say that the Irish guys have been a lot more forward/aggressive than the American guys at clubs... however, they still mostly try to initiate dancing by sneaking up behind and I guess expecting you to start bumping and grinding with them. Which, I must add, is something I do not care to do. Well anyway, Alissa decided that we needed to work out a signal so she could alert my unobservant self the next time she saw an attractive male specimen lurking about in the clubs. (It took a while to decide on something, but she finally determined that a subtle "Hey, Jimmy" accompanied by a little head nod would do the trick.) But then of course we took a bit of a clubbing hiatus and we didn't get to try it out much.

Last Monday though, she dragged Jessie, Katie, and me to a pub in town (and I do mean dragged - I was so cranky about leaving the apartment and embarking on a 30 minute walk at 11pm when I was already feeling sleepy). When we got to The Quays, she and I went up to the bar together and each ordered a Guinness - which, if you don't know, takes a while. They pour most of the pint, then let it settle for a few minutes, then top it off, and then it has to sit a little longer. Well, during that Guinness-settling time, a guy at the end of the bar called over the bartender, who then came back to us and handed us back our money (!). Alissa told me that the proper etiquette in such situations meant that we had to go over to him and strike up a conversation... and that's how she and I spent the next several hours in the pub toasting pints and talking with two guys from Columbus, Ohio. (Leave it to us to find possibly the only two American guys in the Irish pub.) It wound up being a fun night. On the walk home, I admittedly felt a little sheepish for the earlier crankiness. Good things seem to always happen when Alissa decides for us to go out on the town.

* Edit: Oh, I forgot to add that Alissa took all the credit for getting that guy to buy us the drinks. She told me later that when we first got to the bar, she spotted a guy who she said looked like Nigel Barker the "sexy noted fashion photographer..." (although she later decided that he also looked a bit like a bona fide New Jersey Guido when he took his sweatshirt off), and she gave him The Eyes. It's an impressive tactic, and she's been trying to teach me how to master them, too.