You Have The Right To Remain Silent?
Posted By Kristabella on November 11, 2009
So remember that post I talked about yesterday? It isn’t even funny. But I’m posting it anyway, since I don’t like to waste any writings. But I pretty much summed it up yesterday – Rhi came to town, I drank a lot and I met a cop.
People, I am tired. I really didn’t mean to keep that Neti post up there for so long, especially since I was like “I have the best story and I can’t tell you!” And Ali is all “NICE PLOY TO GET TRAFFIC AND COMMENTS, KRISTIN!” It really wasn’t. It’s just that the story was SO good! RIGHT? So funny! If you know me in person, it’s even funnier because I’m an asshole with no filter and a brain that doesn’t work!
Anyway, I’m tired because man oh man I had an exhausting weekend. One of these days I will remember that I am indeed 32 and that 32 year olds, who still have a lingering cold, need rest. And rest does not mean 1,700 gallons of alcohol.
Like I said, ONE of these days I’ll remember that!
So this weekend, Rhi was in town with her lovely fiancée Bill. It was the first time I got to meet Bill and let me just say, he’s a winner, winner, chicken dinner! He’s nice and funny and smart and will sit around for an entire evening while two bloggers sit around and talk about the internet and Twitter and stuff I’m pretty sure most people who don’t blog, don’t care one lick about.
But we do! And I love, love, love getting together with bloggers. One, because you can Twitter while you are with them and they do not get offended, and two, they GET it. I mean, I understand a lot of my non-blogger friends understand that I have a blog, but they don’t really care about the intricacies and the people. Other bloggers, they care. And it is nice to talk about those things in PERSON, rather than over email or an IM chat box.
I mean, it’s the same with any hobby. Say you’re a knitter. I understand the general concept, but I’ve never knitted anything in my life. So while I would understand your passion for knitting, a fellow knitter would GET it and talk about needle size and knits and pearls or whatever.
Anyway, we three had an awesome dinner and then went to a wine bar (a wine bar that I’ve taken EVERY blogger who has come to visit me to), where we decided to drink 17 flights of wine. Right after having a whole conversation about how we’re OLD now and we can’t/shouldn’t drink like we used to. WE ARE ALL TALK!
Saturday morning we both woke up with horrible hangovers. But Rhi had an appointment to go look at wedding dresses, so I donned my best t-shirt and met her downtown so we could commiserate about being hungover together.
I’ve never been wedding dress shopping. It was fun and Rhi more than likely found her dress and it was beautiful and fit her like a glove and she will make a lovely bride, no matter which dress she chooses! I’m so glad I could be there to help take photos and everything so she didn’t have to do it alone.
On Sunday, I had plans to go to the Bears game. I usually try to go to one a year, generally against a team where I know people. And since my friend Cindy works for the Cardinals, I had an “in” with getting tickets. Be-Tee-Dub, an “in” means that you can buy them for face value and sit two rows from the top of the stadium.
Anyway, there was a group of 8 of us, which included my sister, her boyfriend, my friend Jess, my stepmom, her boyfriend (not my dad), his brother and his son. It was a good group. We met at a bar near Soldier Field to get our drink on that morning. I rode down to the stadium with a cup of half coffee, half Bailey’s. Which turned out to be good because we were at the bar a WHOLE HALF HOUR before they started serving booze. That was a long 30 minutes, let me tell you.
The game was fun. The Bears are horrible. We sat behind the Cardinals head coach’s wife. I think we scared her. It’s probably a good thing the Cardinals won.
My sister’s boyfriend nearly got us kicked out when the beer vendor told him to slide the beer down to the person who BOUGHT it and he has apparently never been to a sporting event and thought that meant to SLIDE IT DOWN HIS THROAT. FOR FREE. That was, um, not cool.
Thankfully the vendor had enough beer for the people who wanted it in the FIRST place.
After the game we went back to the same bar. Since there is like nothing around Soldier Field except a convention center and museums. And a whole shit ton of water. This bar was clearly the best part of the night, as you’ve heard.
The best part of going to a bar that is filled mostly with people who went to the game is that said people have been drinking since early morning. So said people are all wasted and jovial and fun to be around. Seriously, I would like to make it a point to go down on the South Side to watch Bears games in a bar more often when the Bears are at home.
(I’m pretty sure my sober sister didn’t enjoy it, though. Especially when I was constantly saying “is he cute? Do I have beer goggles on? IS HE CUTE?” Which is just weird because our taste in guys is pretty different.)
Anyway, it was at this bar that I met a nice fellow. He’s a cop. And I’m smitten. What is it about cops? I mean, just the fact he was a cop, made him 1,000 times hotter. And let me tell you, he was already very good looking. He’s very atypical South Side Chicagoan and SWOON.
We exchanged digits. He kept telling me that he was going to be in my neighborhood on Tuesday. And being drunk, stupid and completely oblivious (there is a reason I’m still single), I was like “why are you going to be in my neighborhood? It’s so far north! What are you going to be doing up there? That’s so weird!” Until finally he just gave me this adorable look and I was like “Oooooh! OK! We’ll hang out!”
Well, last night was Tuesday. And he didn’t call. Which, is fine. I mean he had been drinking too. Maybe he didn’t remember saying that. Or maybe I didn’t actually hear him say that. Except my friend Jess, who was with me all night, sent me a text this morning and was all “DID HE CALL LAST NIGHT?” So at least I didn’t dream it. And Jess was pretty much sober. And she told me I didn’t imagine him being into me either.
So, yeah. I have his phone number. When I didn’t hear from him last night, I figured maybe I would call or text him. Because I didn’t want to have any regrets and always wonder “what if”. So I decided (with the help of Twitter and like 17 people on gchat) to send witty text! Witty texts! I can do witty texts! And if he doesn’t respond, then I don’t have to leave an awkward NON-WITTY voicemail.
So this is what I sent:
“Crime in my neighborhood seems to be on the rise. I guess you didn’t make it to my neighborhood last night”
Hat tip to Dotty for the suggestion!
I shall keep you all posted. Or probably not blog about it. WHATEVER.
