:: Life on Planet Dan-E ::

:: So Now What? Part 2 ::

It's only fitting to write a follow-up to that girl I I met last week at tennis. My buddy Pedro called later that week to catch up and I told him about what happened on Wednesday. After laughing his ass off, he had the bright idea of seeing if she's on Facebook and sending her a message if I find her profile.

Seemed harmless enough other than the fact that it seemed somewhat stalker-ish. But given my luck up to that point, what's the worst that could happen; she ignores my message? Never show up at the tennis clinics again? Whatever, I've heard worse ideas.

I knew her first name, and during our conversation she told me what she did, where she lived, and what college she went to. Using those filters, I found her profile in about five minutes and... wow is that her? That is her college and I can open up her profile and, holy crap that is her. WOW she's hot. I mean, she looked good sans makeup and all (not just because her little tennis skirt showed off her legs) but her default photo showed her decked out in a black dress at some restaurant or club and let me tell ya, she cleans up nice. I have to admit, I was a little intimidated.

It took me about forty minutes to compose a message. Yeah really. It couldn't come off too weird or dorky, and I made sure there weren't any typos (did I mention she's a teacher?). It's one thing to go over something with a fine-tooth comb; I strained this thing through a sieve. Finally convinced that I wouldn't seem like a total idiot, I clicked "send."

Saturday came and went with no reply, no calls, nothing. I did check her profile once more to see if there were any changes in her status (which might actually be a little stalker-ish) but again, nothing. I thought that maybe she doesn't check it that often because unlike other Facebook dwellers, she enjoys interacting with three-dimensional human beings. Any type of reasoning that makes me feel less like a loser, I'll go with. Whatever, I didn't hear from her.

Or so I thought.

Another Wednesday night, another night of tennis. I arrive, pay for the clinic, walk to the courts and... oh it's her. Umm, shit.

"Hey how are you?" "I'm good, how are you?" (There's that smile again.)

"Not too bad." "I got your message on Facebook."

Oh. Umm, shit. My initial reaction was apprehension. Crap. I knew it. She thinks I'm an idiot. But, wait a minute and focus for a minute. She's here, she said 'hi' to me, she's smiling, and oh by the way, she's HERE. And another thing, dumbass? SHE'S SMILING.

"You did." 'Yeah, I tried calling you on Saturday."

o_Ó

"You did?"

She did? I don't remember getting a call at any time on Saturday... oh wait. There was that one call early afternoon from an area code that I didn't recognize. I get these occasionally and it's always some telemarketing call so I ignored it. That was her? She's been living in Miami longer than I have; I thought she'd have a local number. Why the hell didn't she leave a message?!

Never mind that. I have a shot to salvage this thing.

We keep making small talk throughout the night and I really can't help but notice that being the only girl, she's not only doing a pretty good job keeping up with the guys (again, not a metaphor for "she has a nice ass" although, yeah it's not bad) she's is a bit better than a couple of them. Once we're done, I go up to her and ask her for her number (again) and punch it into my phone. (After last week, I don't care if I'm just taking the trash out, I'm never leaving home without that thing again, ever.)

We have tentative plans for Sunday afternoon. Let's just see now if I figure out a way to screw that up.

Labels: cell phones, dating, girls, tennis

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 10:32 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: So Now What? ::

I did my usual Wednesday night tennis thing. I wanted to get my mind off of my current unemployment status and beating the crap out of a little yellow ball seemed like a good idea. I get there and start warming up. Once we get split up I noticed a girl in a blue tennis outfit that's also playing on our court. She's kinda cute but I only noticed since the advanced clinic is usually a pickle farm.

As it turns out, she's pretty good and possesses a killer backhand (and that's not a metaphor for "she has nice legs," though there is that). While picking up balls we make eye contact. Normally, I'd probably just smile a little and keep picking up balls but instead I smile and ask, "How's it going?" She smiles back and says "hi."

I try to make some casual conversation with her between drills by starting off with "you have a nice backhand. Where'd you learn to play?" (Seriously, I have no game.) Fortunately she gives me more than just short, curt answers. If anything, she's laid-back and chatty, and has an easy smile. I find out she's from Chicago, lived in Miami for many years, is a school teacher, and likes Da Bears.

Once the clinic is over, I approach her to get her number. Only thing is, I left my cell phone at home - I never bring it with me when I play - and I didn't have a pen. So I ask her for her phone and she hands it over; I punch in my number and press dial.

"That's my number, and now I should have yours."

"Cool, I'm gonna save it." She flashes that smile again.

"Alright, I'll call you about Saturday."

"Bye."

"See ya."

(And this is despite the fact that I'm dripping with sweat, probably smell funny, and sporting a patchy two-week old facial shrub. Either my personality won out or she *really* doesn't care about looks. I'm guessing the latter.)

After she walks away, I pack up my rackets with a stupid grin on my face. I get home and grab my phone and... nothing. Absolutely nothing. WTF. It should have said "1 missed call" but there was NOTHING. How did it not go through? I pressed the green button! Did she have bad reception? Did she save the number too quickly?! I guess it's irrelevant because there was NOTHING.

So now what do I do? If I see her again at the clinic, she's going to think I'm just another asshole that doesn't call. (I mean, I can be an asshole but I usually call.) Just my luck. This is why I sometimes hate technology. Anyway, I'm gonna go self-immolate.

Labels: dating, girls, please just shoot me, tennis, wtf

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 10:05 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Job Search: Yet Again ::

First the bad news: Some of you might remember I wrote that I might get laid off (one of these days, I'd like to type that without using the word "off") from my job. It seems that i was on the bubble with management considering laying off one of the less productive waiters. Word of my altercation with the lazy busboy got back to the people at human resources and as a result, I was cut. (The busboy was also terminated, but that doesn't really make me feel any better.) This happened right after I wrote that first post.

Now the good news: I just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance by switching to Geico.

I couldn't resist, it was right there. The real good news - with a caveat - is that I found a new job not too long after. The new job is at another steakhouse, which is great because I like the steakhouse atmosphere and when it comes to the menu, I know the basics quite well. The caveat: this is a brand new restaurant that hasn't even opened yet. I don't even begin training until late next week, maybe. Normally, a new steakhouse be great, and this place is well known with several locations on the East Coast. However, with the crappy economy, I don't think anyone knows whether or not the new spot will take off.

I can only hope. It sucks to be dealing with this - yet again - but I only have myself to blame for the situation I'm in.

Labels: I'm an idiot, job search, server stories

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 8:30 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: BRUUUUUUCE ::

One thing I completely forgot to mention about the Super Bowl was the halftime performance by Bruce Springsteen. I'm a fan of The Boss, not quite to the degree that I'm a U2 fan, but I like a good number of his songs, and "Born to Run" is by far my favorite album and song.

Watching him do the things he did on that stage was pretty cool for me. At the same time, when he started to climb up on that piano, my first thought was "I hope he doesn't fall and break his hip." The dude is my dad's age (actually, he's younger) for crying out loud and the only thing dad is likely to climb on these days is his bed. But he performed with an energy, verve and stage presence that younger musicians, like say Billy Corgan would kill for... assuming he would ever stop being a pretentious, self-loathing, fuckmook with that pathetic whoa-is-me I'm-a-starving-artist-facade. (And I like Smashing Pumpkins. Seriously. And I digress yet again.)

Just a few thoughts:

• There were no fewer than four moments during that halftime show that made me question whether or not he'd injure himself. That shot of him grabbing the mic stand and leaning back with his knees bent like that, I swear I thought saw a genuinely pained look on his face and I wasn't sure whether or not he'd actually be able to get up from that without Little Stevie and Clarence Clemons helping him out. Though I admit, if he did hurt himself and had to be taken off the field on a cart, that would have amused me to no end.

• (Speaking of which, one of the my favorite bizarre moments was seeing the Big Man on the cowbell for "Glory Days." It was cool, unnecessary and unintentionally hilarious at the same time. Look, I'm a huge advocate of more cowbell but what's the point if you can't even hear it? They had a seven-piece band you put him on the cowbell? On the other hand, if anyone can make a mute cowbell seem cool, it's Clarence. Gene Frenkle would be proud.)

• I like watching power slides as much as the next rock fan but Springsteen's power slide gave me two thoughts: 1. When he was running (read: ambling) to build up speed he looked, well, old. That or his pants were way too tight. 2. I really didn't want to see his crotch flying towards the camera (read: right at me) at that speed at that close of a range, especially on the HD screen at the bar. Good thing that portion of the show wasn't in 3D or else someone might have hurt themselves from flinching.

• The setlist was pretty good. I noticed he changed the lyrics in "Glory Days" to fit the football theme, though it didn't bother me nearly as much as it did other hardcore Springsteen fans since, let's face it, he's not exactly Alexander Solzhenitsyn to begin with. For example, in "Glory Days" you throw a "fastball" whereas a "speedball" is something you do to get high. Not that I'd know anything about that.

• The mic-sharing spit-off with Little Stevie was vintage but having the fake referee go out there to throw a flag was egregious. I'm pretty sure several lines were crossed there.

• "Born to Run" isn't just my favorite album, it's one of my favorite songs and I was really hoping he'd end with it. Instead he clumsily mixed in "Working on a Dream" from his new album. That and the fireworks shooting off in time with the beat of "Born to Run" seemed out of place. Bruce Springsteen, a sellout? Say it ain't so. On the bright side, despite rumors he didn't sing "Secret Garden."

• Out of all the people sitting at the bar patio, there were literally six people who seemed to be into the halftime show, and they were all my age or just a little older. A lot of the younger customers and the Latin audience used that moment to go to the bathroom, order more beer, or get high. I know the peak years of his popularity are behind him but you can't honestly tell me that that many people are apathetic to a living rock legend. I know I'm biased but still.

Despite the flaws, I really enjoyed it. A little more than last year's Tom Petty and way more than Paul McCartney. (What, was Oasis busy?)

Labels: football, humor, more cowbell, music, unintentional comedy

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 11:33 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Super Bowl XLIII Recap ::

Almost had it. For two minutes and two seconds I looked like a genius. When I made my pick I wrote, "Since I'm not putting any money on the game, I'm going with Arizona: 23-20." Right there, in the fourth quarter, with 2:47 left on the clock Kurt Warner threw a perfect pass to Larry Fitzgerald, who ran a quick slant and shot up the middle, torching the secondary. After the extra point, the score was 23-20.

With that much time on the clock, anything could happen so I kept my self-high-fives to myself (and because the other people at the bar would have looked at me funny). After all I remembered something else I wrote while listing the reason why they might lose; "...and let's face it; they're the Arizona Cardinals."

As if trying to prove me wrong right after proving me right, they revert back to form. Now, nobody thought that the Arizona offense would stay dormant for long, though no one thought they would do all their work in the 4th quarter. Certainly no one thought they would put up the defensive display that they did. It could have been a blowout but they held Pittsburgh with some impressive goal-line stands, and even forcing a safety by inducing a holding call.

So I guess no one was surprised when QB Big Ben guided his team up the field with an 8-play drive while eluding blitzes and tackles with a series of moves and jukes, somehow keeping the play alive, and managing to look like a tall, unathletic (no it's not a real word) white guy in the process. (Seriously, every time red jerseys surrounded him, he somehow managed to stay on his feet, scrambled away, and looked like he was about to trip even though he was upright. He may look unathletic but Big Ben's got some skills.) As elusive as he was, Arizona missed a lot of tackles and their secondary left too many openings.

You know the rest. 0:29 left and Arizona faltered (though they were at the Pittsburgh 43-yard line; I would loved to have seen what might have happened if Kurt Warner made that Hail Mary anywhere within Fitz's range. Catch or no catch that would have been one hell of a finish). Game, set match Pittsburgh wins.

I can't complain. I even told my brother that I thought the Steelers would win but I'm going to root for the Cards anyway. But like any Super Bowl that doesn't involve my 49ers all I was really rooting for was a good game. It was a great game. Besides, I've been to Pittsburgh and I liked the city. I wouldn’t want to live there but I could think of worse places to visit for a few days, especially if it involves attending a sporting event.

And you know me, I'm going to like any city where their signature food item is a giant sandwich.

Labels: football, picks, sports

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 9:17 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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