Here's my number...

I went to my first Wizards game last night. It's funny, they wand you with metal detectors to get into the Verizon Center for a basketball game, but not for concerts or Capitol's hockey. Whether justified or not, I suppose that says something about the crowd that attends pro basketball games. Metal detectors aside, I have never seen so many police there. There was even a SWAT van parked out front. What's up with that?

Anyway, my buddy Chuck and I both brought flasks of rum into the game and got a little banged up. Afterwards we went to Rocket Bar, which apparently is my new favorite watering hole because I've been there three times in as many weeks.

Chuck and I got on a pool table and were playing for fun at first. Three games into the night we played for drinks, then $10 a rack and by 11:30 he said "Hundred bucks this game?", which I wanted nothing to do with. He was insistent, so we played and I won. Chuck threw a one hundred dollar bill on the table and said "OK, one more game, new stakes. Winner of this game gets decision rights on a boat." This was kind of big, and I started to wonder if I was getting hustled.

For a little background, Chuck and I each used to have sailboats. I sold mine when I moved to DC. Chuck had his for a year while I was here but wasn't using it much. He asked me if I wanted to buy into the boat, but at the time I wasn't interested, so he sold it, which I think he regrets. I saw a boat on craigslist this week that was a great value, so we're going to see it tomorrow morning.

We played the game and I fucking lost. I couldn't believe it. I beat him all night, and I lost that game. What this means is that if he likes this boat, I have to buy it with him. I probably would have anyway, but it just means I can't get cold feet and wiggle my way out of it.

Chuck went up to the bar to pay for the pool and get another round of drinks. While he was gone I walked over to a girl who I had caught looking at us a bunch of times that night.

Beads: This girl was young, 23, fantastic body, cute face, and a very large chest. She had on jeans, a tight sweater, and a big set of beads (I know, strange), so I'm going to call her Beads.

I will preface this by saying that I was fairly drunk at this point.

I walk up to Beads, who was texting someone, and I said "555-55..." (I was obviously saying my real number, not just "5"), she looked at me and said "What". I started over, "555-555-5555". She started to punch the number into her phone, then said "Wait, I don't want your number, you have to take mine", I said no, and she continued to punch in my number. After a few more digits she stopped again and said "No, really, give me your phone." I took it out of my pocket and she snatched it out of my hand and punched in her number. She then hit send and called herself, "See, it's the real number." I introduced myself and asked her what she was doing this weekend. Beads said she had friends in town this weekend but was free all next week, and that we should get together one night.

I don't know where that approach came from, I had no idea what I was going to say to her as I was walking over. My phone number was the first thing that came out of my mouth after I tapped her on the shoulder. It worked pretty well though. I've always said there is a very thin line between arrogance and humor. Beads obviously has a sense of humor or she would have just walked away from me.

A few minutes later Chuck came back with drinks, which we downed and then left.