Mitch takes a few quick sips of his wine to catch up with martini monger Jane. Not that I can blame Jane for her foray into a hopeful alcohol haze to cope with this more-awkward-by-the minute blind date.
When Mitch stands up suddenly, I am thinking, "Great - he's off to the men's room, and I can get the scoop from Jane about her true impression of this guy. Then, as any woman would do for another in a bind, I would help her escape, or get drunk, or start throwing glasses so he leaves -- OR SOMETHING to support my fellow sufferer -- I'm suffering too, being subjected to his embarrassing himself"
But no, Mitch of course is just getting started. He instead lifts up his shirt and shows his naked stomach to her. I immediately head to the far side of the bar to poke Chris, the Bar Back, so he doesn't miss this scene himself -- I'm going to need someone to rehash this stranger-than-fiction date with later on -- and many times after!
Before I can say "Whoa, fella - this is a family establishment" or "I know it's dark in here, but the reflection from that thing isn't helping", he grabs at some over-hanging, stretched-out skin sitting on top of his belt, and asks Jane incredulously "Can you believe I used to weigh 400 pounds???" Then he tucks the bottom of his shirt under his chin, grabs his Pinot Grigio unnecessarily with two hands so his stomach remains revealed, and strikes a pose with one hand on his hip so that when his shirt thankfully falls downward, it is hindered by his hand and is still exposing one side of his hairy pale girth. The raised Pinot Grigio glass in his other hand serves as a nice prop for this "look at me" scenario.
At that exact moment, Gina, one of the waitresses that had welcomed Mitch the old Regular back with open arms and kind words, walks by, gawks from behind his back at his display, rolls her eyes to me and stifles a laugh as she comes to wait at the end of bar for her drink order. I of course have to remain unfazed, because, while Gina is behind Mitch making the faces to me, I am right in front of him, really wanting to shoot Gina a look back with all of my being.
But no, I act like this is the coolest, most mundane thing and it happens all the time. All I can do to release some of the 'WTF' that is surging inside of me, is let out a "HUH" as I start mixing Gina's drinks. Of course they are all well drinks, and the well is directly in front of Mitch's seat -- not that he is sitting in his seat, but that just makes the view even more unobstructed. I decide to swallow my mortification, and actually LOOK at Jane. At the least, I can send her some bartender ESP, like "How would you like an even STRONGER drink now" or "GOD, I am so SORRY for you."
Mitch is looking at Jane at this point, too, expectantly. He is clearing thinking that this is the defining moment of the date; something they will look back on years from now as the time they both realized they were meant to be together. One has to admire - sort of - Mitch's boldness. Pompous scale registers at a 7. I can't decide whether to pity Mitch or to shut him off. Lucky for Mitch, I haven't soured Jane with my utter disdain, and she ACTUALLY SAYS:
"No way?! ME TOO!!!"
Yikes. Chris, Gina and I exchange looks of horror. This is going to be a long, strange night...
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