I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.
A little over a month ago I introduced the world to my dear friend, Hopeful Mentality. If you’re not familiar, I’ll recap. This upbeat friend of mine has one vivacious personality, and some rather hysterical stories. In our last meeting with this character she was testing the waters of a new love interest, met at the gas station after one too many sips of Rich and Rare.
See what I mean.
When this Cornrow Creeper got handsy, my friend hit the ground running … and wouldn’t you? I love this girl from the very bottom of my heart, and the various antics and epic tales that constitute her life are priceless. It is utterly fantastic to listen to these adventures, I can’t get enough. So when she shared this little anecdote with me, let’s just say I was taking notes. Allow me to paint the picture:
Roughly one year ago HM and a friend ventured to CiCi’s Pizza in Matthews for a lunch time snack. As usual, HM was dressed to impress and it didn’t take her long before she locked eyes with an attractive gentleman across the dining room. No conversation was exchanged, no swapping of contact information, or even general information, took place. At the end of this day time meal, HM left the building without so much as learning this guy’s name.
But this is Hopeful Mentality we’re talking about, and she’s nothing if not resourceful.
Later that exact evening, she headed out for a night uptown at Suite with another friend. Bar side inside Suite, HM glances around and makes eye contact with the very same gentleman from CiCi’s earlier that day. Naturally this twice random occurrence is enough to force this guy’s hand. It was a coincidence unlike any other; a connection was begging to be made.
So the segregation: breached, conversation: made, and the two seemed to really hit it off. This very attractive and interesting boy bought our lady friend shot after shot. Soon HM, armed with one good girlfriend, was even more intrigued to know more about this white knight. And by the time last call was announced, she was already posted up in his passenger seat and ready to ride.
On a side note, this isn’t a course of action HM would typically take - but come on. Twice in one day? At two separate locations? Someone was trying to tell our friend something, and she was itching to find out exactly what that something was. Also, for the purpose of this blog we’ll have to give the guy in the spotlight a nickname. It is only fair. And so hence forth we’ll call this gentlemen friend of ours, Skeeter.
Don’t ask.
The scene has now shifted, and currently HM is continuing the festivities only in the home of Skeeter as opposed to the bar; and the uptown crowd has now been replaced by one girlfriend and a couple other guys. All friends of Skeeter, no doubt, but a long night ensues and soon HM finds herself ready to trade boozing for some snoozing.
The next morning, our friend wakes up all alone. No Skeeter in sight, no guy friends, and worse yet … no girlfriend. In a strange home, unsure of her exact location and attempting to piece together her perimeters - HM began to explore. It is this point when she discovers a full course breakfast prepared - a delightful surprise from one Skeeter to our friend.
He explained that at some point the girlfriend didn’t feel well, and needed to leave. So she did. This girl actually left our friend in this strange home, with these unknown characters, over night. No phone call, no nothing. Ladies, never ever do this. For a second there, HM is panicking. You would, too. But this breakfast looks pretty incredible, so she puts her pissed off notions aside … you know, at least until she’s finished her pancakes.
Skeeter then volunteers to drive her home. First breakfast, and now a lift? What a gentleman.
Wait for it.
But unfortunately the ride home required a quick stop, onto a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. HM looks confused, especially when Skeeter stops his car, turns it off and slides the key out of the ignition.
Now, if you’re a believer in God – then you may also believe that he’s got a sense of humor. And our friend Hopeful Mentality: his punch line.
Take it easy though, what we have here isn’t another “Switcharoo” incident. But nonetheless, this one is just as unorthodox. Skeeter is just looking for a little more conversation. He wanted to know more about our friend. And this is how this dialogue unfolded:
Hopeful Mentality- “So, what are we doing?”
Skeeter- “I just want to talk to you”
Hopeful Mentality- “I’m a little confused, what exactly is your agenda at the moment?”
After a long silence, and an exasperated sigh …
Skeeter- “Do you believe that there is something else out there?”
Hopeful Mentality- “huh?”
Skeeter- “Like aliens, do you believe in aliens?”
Hopeful Mentality- “Ummm, huh?”
Skeeter- “See, ever since I was younger I’ve had this reoccurring dream that I’m being attacked by aliens. I had it again, last night. I just thought it was strange, you know, that I just happened to meet you yesterday, have two chance meetings and you stayed over last night.”
Hopeful Mentality- “Rightttt”
Skeeter- “In my dream you were an alien. It was weird”
At this point, our friend notices this very odd gleam in her new guy friend’s eyes. She’s thinking, for the love of God this boy thinks I’m an alien. So she poses the question, naturally:
Hopeful Mentality- “So you think I’m an alien? Do you really think I’m an alien?”
Hopeful Mentality?
In pure shock, the wheels in our friend’s mind are turning. She’s thinking: this guy really thinks I’m an extraterrestrial.
So this Skeeter guy pulls my friend out on this secluded dirt road to get to the bottom of his space invader theory? Was he trying to separate her from the rest of the pack? Seek out the weakest link? A better question: and then what?
And after a little more awkward conversation, HM admits that this conversation is a little too unconventional for her. She requests he take her home. So he does, and the ride home – you guessed it, silent.
And although communication didn’t end here, HM has hung up her hopes to ever forego an intimate connection with Skeeter. And what a shame, too; at the time all she knew - this beautiful man she ran into a CiCi’s Pizza in the small town of Matthews, NC, was a little too bizarre for her. The moral of this story: looks can be deceiving.
And also, meeting people at CiCi’s Pizza is out, and almost as lethal as the infamous gas station meeting.
On a last note, maybe we should change Hopeful Mentality’s name to CiCi’s girl … since that it he name Skeeter’s friends have referred to her as for the last year. And even though he really missed a great opportunity with a great girl, I would like to wish him luck in his future endeavors; both with the ladies, and future UFO spottings.
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