Funday Sunday

The perfect Sunday is one of those days where I get up late, work out, eat a huge breakfast, go to church, go to brunch with my buddies, and then spend the rest of day writing or reading a fiction novel. 

Next to my "perfect" Sunday is a Sunday where I get ridiculously crazy and shitfaced in gay town.  It's the kind of day I like to call "Funday Sunday." 

Yesterday was such a day.

I started off being responsible.  I really did.

I woke up early, cleaned the condo, and went on a 45 minute run up the Katy Trail, which is a reasonably good running and bike path that snakes through the heart of Dallas.  On most weekends, one can find shirtless studs (both gay and straight) pounding the Katy's pavement, especially around the section that I frequent. 

After my run, I came home and relaxed on the couch. 

At around 11:30 a.m., my friend Heather called and reminded me that I'd promised to watch the 12:00 noon Cowboys game with her at a sports bar. 

Forty minutes later, Heather picked me up and drove us to Buffalo Wild Wings, a bad ass sports bar and grill (albeit a chain) that just opened a new location in the heart of the gay part of Dallas. 

This new BWW is awesome for five reasons:  (1) gay sports fans go there, (2) it has cheap drinks, (3) the atmosphere is bright, not dark and dingy like the other popular sports pubs in Dallas, (4) there are lots of big screen TVs, and (5) NTN Trivia is usually on one of the screens. 

BWW was packed when we got there, as we didn't arrive until after kickoff.  Still, we were fortunate enough to get a booth in the middle of the big, noisy room.

After settling into our booth and ordering two beers, Heather and immediately scanned the room. 

A group of young, fairly cute lesbians were right in front of us.  One girl was sitting on another girl's lap, which I'd never seen at a sports bar before, but it was refreshing, if not a little shocking. 

In terms of guys, however, the pickings were slim. 

I thought the assistant manager was cute, but Heather disagreed, and complained that he had too much of a baby face.  Other than him, there was a blond hottie who showed up with his parents, but he only stayed for one quarter of the Cowboys game. 

Needless to say, Heather and I were both very disappointed, especially me, because I've been on a man-craze of late.  I must've been on 20 dates since my last boyfriend and I broke up, and none of the guys have made it to the second date. 

With no eye candy in the bar, I focused instead on one of the sexiest football hunks of all time - Brett Favre.  The Packers are looking good this year, and Sunday's game was no exception.   

Five drinks later, I told Heather that the Grapevine Bar, a seedy looking dive off the beaten path, but a favorite watering hole for many, was having its 11th Anniversary Party that day.  Admission was $10/person, and any kind of drink (including premiums) were $1.  Jello shots were also $1, there was free food, and, of particular importance to Heather, the Grapevine had ordered a bouncy house for drunk patrons to get crazy in. 

Heather and I both wanted to go, but neither of us wanted to stay for very long.  In fact, we agreed to bring $15 each, and once we used all of our money (part of which would go to pay our $10/each cover), we'd head out.

But, as is typical in such a situation, things didn't work out quite like we'd planned. 

First, we pulled into the small dive's parking lot, which was half gravel and half pavement.  Next to the parking lot was the bounce house, which was shaped like a small, red castle, and sported netted sides to prevent drunk idiots from falling on their faces as they crashed into the walls. 

Heather brightened up when she saw it.

The lesbian at the front door must've thought Heather was cute, because she let us through without paying cover. 

Both of us knew what that meant - we were each going to spend our $15 on booze.

We walked into the bar, the first room of which was dark and lit by hanging lanterns and bubble lights.  Cheap, but comfortable, yard-sale-quality lounge chairs lined the walls, and a barrage of gay, straight, old, and young patrons laughed and sang along with the Prince song that was blasting over the speakers.

Heather and I started with two rum and Diet Cokes and walked through the pool table room (which has only one table) and onto the back patio, which has another bar, a lattice roof with vines and lights, crazy decorations, and more gay than straight people. 

We grabbed a table overlooking the ghetto basketball court, which, for Sunday, had been converted into a beer garden and BBQ pit.

For the next two hours, Heather and I got drunker, and more and more people rolled in. 

Two guys who I'd recently been on dates with showed up.  At first, neither were very happy with me, as I'd neglected to return their calls over the last week.  I think I made amends, however, or at least they gave me that impression. 

Another guy, who I'd kissed in a bar a few months ago, suddenly appeared at the table next to us.  I was embarrassed because I didn't remember his name.  Heather thought he was really cute, and hounded me all day to talk to this guy, who I'll call "Jabronie" (because Heather and I thought that'd be a funny name for him, even if he was a nice guy).  I avoided Jabronie's gaze as much as possible.

Why?

I have no idea, but in my hazy state, it seemed like the sensible thing to do.

Then, to my surprise, Megahottie walked. 

I've never blogged about Megahottie before, primarily because, in my last year in Dallas, I've only actually seen him 3-4 times.  He's incredibly handsome, one of those guys who turns every single head when he enters a room.  At 6'1, he's in perfect physical form with light blue eyes, short, brown hair, and a beautiful smile.  He is completely stunning.

I've met him twice, but, believe it or not, I don't remember his name. 

I don't think he remembers meeting me at all, but that's OK because it allows me to fantasize about him more secretly. 

Beyond his captivating good looks, I knew nothing about him.  I didn't know what he did for a living, if he was a nice guy or a dickhead, what kind of morals he had, you name it. 

But still, I made a vow to Heather that I was going to talk to Megahottie, and possibly ask him out, even though he seemed shy and was getting stared at and approached like he was a movie star.

There was one huge hitch in my plan, however. 

Megahottie showed up at the Grapevine with two guys.  One of the guys had recently asked me out and gotten a rejection.  The guy was pissed too. 

Consequently, I kept my distance from Megahottie, thinking that I'd run into him again when the time was right.   

For some reason, Heather kept nagging me to talk to Jabronie - she really thought he was cute. 

Eventually, I did. 

He seemed somewhat feminine to me, which doesn't bother me in friends, but is not something I want in a boyfriend - I'm just not attracted to it. 

In my drunken stupor, however, it didn't bother me as much. 

We joked around about our kissing episode in the bar, and he got along well with Heather.  More importantly, Jabronie was fun to hang out with.

Consequently, we asked him to join our table. 

At one point, Heather, Jabronie, and I all decided to go to the bounce house, where the net walls kept giving way, causing patrons to roll off the pad onto the asphalt below. 

Yes, I was one of the idiots who rolled off and busted my ass on the ground. 

After I finished a summersault and landed on my head, I looked up to see Megahottie and his two friends (including the pissed-off guy) climbing into the bounce house. 

Heather threw me one of her sexy Ali Landry smiles and started laughing. 

Jabronie just kept bouncing. 

And I stuck my tail between my legs and climbed out of the bounce house. 

An hour later, I took Jabronie home, and this morning at 6:00 a.m., I drove him back to his place.

Needless to say, it was a long, long day at the office.

I've already decided that next Sunday will not be another Funday Sunday. 

Comments

[abnitude]

great story. sunday afternoons like that are the best...they make great memeories.

[Synrgy]

Didn't I leave a comment here yesterday? I had fun reading this one to... damnit

[Synrgy]

something like... heather sounds like fun... Funday Sunday sounds like a lot of fun... you should do it again next Sunday... Are you going to call Jabronie?... You should have said hello to Megahottie, even if rejection got pissed off... although I'm too much of a chicken shit to have done it myself... I'm just sayin'