Not too long ago, I found myself at a gathering of friends...one girl had gotten engaged the week before. And that's fine. I wish I could say that I was shocked to hear that a second girl had gotten engaged since then. But I wasn't--for you see, this is how my life works. Now, for those of you keeping count at home, that's 2. 2 people in 2 weeks. While I'm super excited for them, you've got to be freaking kidding me!
It was at that moment that I knew I needed some ice cream.
Amy and I made our way towards the McDonald's on UK's campus. "Should we go through the drive-thru or go in?" I asked. We decided to go in...because we never go in. What an exciting change for us. Or was it?
We were having an awesome time, because that's what we are. Awesome. There was a sign on the wall that limited time spent in the restaurant to 30 minutes. I clearly remember thinking, "What an interesting sign." As we sat, eating our delicious sundaes I saw a crazy-eyed man. As he was walking towards us, that's when I remembered that I needed to "look for my chapstick in my purse thus bringing my purse into my lap." That's when he sat down.
I was immediately petrified. And if there was such a thing as "contact drunk" I would've been that, too. He smelled like a walking bourbon bottle. Amy later noted that he had a bottle in his pocket. With him sitting next to me, turned completely towards me (as opposed to towards his own table), I thought, "please don't talk please don't talk please don't talk." Well, you can't always get what you want.
Drunk McGee: I'm just trying to do something nice.
DM: qweuoinkstklgfnjkesfkls.[to me] You're pretty.
Me: Ummm...thanks. [Inner monologue: Wow, this is super creepy...but then again, I can't think of any guy telling me I was pretty (while sober) ever. A girl could get used to that].
DM: widnagitnssjlenfl tattoos sfsnnfkfjklsgopwnbfsr Can you do me a favor?
Me: [hesitantly] OK
DM: [to Amy] She's pretty.
There is some dispute over what was actually said here, I thought he was telling Amy that she was pretty. Amy thought he was asking her to comment on me being pretty.
Amy: She is. [awww, thanks Amy]
DM: Can you do me a favor?
Me: Yea. What?
DM: wivcklglkdbiu Can you give me 50 cents?
I give him the money, under the silly impression that he would then leave. He then puts the money in his pocket. As though I was being charged for his company. Amy yawns--because Amy is a genius.
DM: Are you tired?!
Amy: Yea...I think we're gonna have to head out.
We exit McDonald's
Amy: And that's why we don't go inside.
Although we have plans of returning to that McDonald's any time soon...if another person shows up engaged in the not too distant future, I might give him another chance. One of my co-workers is already familiar with Drunk McGee, as she has seen him at that same McDonald's. I began describing him and she accurately finished the description.