At Least I'm Not Doing Drugs AND Sleeping Around

Triumph

Going out for just a weekend in Sun Valley, I had to run into some adventures. It was inevitable. Small town means I am going to run into a lot of people I know and there's a lot of money which means that there better some people buying me drinks. I go into a dive bar in town. And I don't mean "dive bar" like they have some beat up posters on the wall. You can smoke in this bar, they don't have a credit card machine, and you get your PBR for free if you can guess the card that is on the lid of the bottle. There are some seriously awesome characters in this place. No matter what day of the week you go, every alcoholic in town is parked on a bar stool or at their regular table. It's really too loud and the smoke in the air is repulsive to someone who isn't a regular smoker. I usually even stash my coat outside so it does not absorb the smell as bad; having my hair and clothes reek is enough. Why do I even go to this bar you ask? Because sometimes, I actually enjoy having no class.
I am not at the bar long before I run into a snowboard instructor I know from the mountain. He also happens to be a waiter at the nicest restaurant in town - so I know him from both of these places. I have already had too many beers. So I am definitely feeling awesome, but when I run into this instructor, he pronounces my name wrong. NOT cool. I admit that many people pronounce my name wrong, so I politely said, "You know, I will let it slide this time, but really it is pronounced like '_____.'" He profusely apologizes. I can tell by how much he is apologizing that he means it, or at least is trying to hook up with me, so I let it slide. Neither of those intentions are going to offend me. He then says that in order to make it up to me, he wants to buy me a drink. "You like tequila?" he says and I smile. "Patron?" I am actually starting to like this guy... Even though he's a snowboarder.
We take our shot together and sit down to talk. There isn't a lot to chat about. We discuss what we have been doing the last few months... And then out of what I feel is nowhere he says that he has some really good coke and asks if I want some. I tell him that I have never done coke and he insists that this is the time to try it. He did not pressure me in any way, and I knew it was something I wanted to try. When I agree to do it with him, he informs me that it is still at the restaurant because he accidentally left it at work. I happen to be a close family friend of the owner of this restaurant (his boss) and am hesitant again... for about thirty seconds. I want to try it. I tell him that I don't think his boss would be very happy if he knew we were doing coke in there. He quickly corrects me and tells me that his boss loves me and would be really happy that we were hanging out. (Obviously snowboard instructor here doesn't know that his boss actually tried to set me up with his son.)
We walk to the restaurant and it starts to get really cliche. He goes to his locker and gets out the blow. He sets up the lines on the bathroom counter with his credit card. What do we snort it with? A hundred dollar bill of course. I love this shit. From the second I am doing it, I enjoy it. The taste, the slight burn, the smell, I like it all. I do a few lines and feel like I should take a break. I am wired. This instructor informs me that he is really horny. But there is no way I am interested in this guy beyond the coke. But I still feel like making out with him is fair. We make out for a while and it's a lot of fun. Until he starts talking. "You are so beautiful. I want to date you. You are such a good kisser. Ohmygosh I love making out with you." He must be Hilary Duff's oldest fan! He is also thirty-eight. I am really not one to be concerned about his age... but the beautiful and dating shit? Not for me and definitely not sexy. I tell him that I don't want to hear that shit and he immediately starts that sappy, "Come on baby, tell me who hurt you? Who made you like this?" This guy must think I am a Hilary Duff fan too! All I am doing is making out with this guy. I had tequila and coke in me, I couldn't make the decision NOT to make out with him. After this conversation goes on for a few minutes I am bored with what snowboard instructor is saying and the making out. It is time for me to organize.
The restaurant has the place settings up for the next day and they are all complex. Each setting has two glasses, two plates, and dozen pieces of cutlery. I ask the snowboard instructor to take them all off one of the tables and he does. I then spend the next two hours re-setting the table meticulously. Fine tuning the location of each candle, wine glass, and escargot fork was perfect for the high I was experiencing.
After setting the table though, I was bored and wanted to go home. I ask to go home and of course he invites me back to his house. "There is no way, take me home please." He drives me home and I need to go to bed, it's light out and I have been partying for hours. As I try to fall asleep he is still texting me. I put my phone on silent and catch some zzz's.
The next morning I have no plans to but to lay in the sun - it's blue sky and much warmer than Seattle. I get a phone call. SERIOUSLY? I thought I made it clear last night that I already need some space from this guy. Of course he is calling. He asks me how I feel and what I am doing for the day. I tell him that I feel dehydrated but otherwise fine and mention that I am going to the store to pick up some sunscreen. More small talk... and he says that he will call me later because he wants to take me out. I cringe and just tell him that I will talk to him soon. I run into the grocery store and hear my name, at least pronounced correctly and cringe again. It's him! He tells me that he was "just driving by the store and needed to come in and harass me." He succeeded. I am so annoyed with this dude. Does he pick up on any clues?! He told me on the phone that he was at home at the time... he went out of his way to "harass" me at the store. He follows me around watching everything I put in my basket. When he finally decides that it is time for him to leave the store he kisses me on the cheek and says, "See you later babe." Woof. I agree again that we will talk soon, but I already knew that I would be ignoring him for the rest of weekend. He calls me and texts me a few more times in the short time that I am in town and I choose to ignore all of them.
Why would I dare to call this story a triumph? I still had an awesome time. The coke, the partying, the making out... it was still fun. And I learned I don't like thirty-eight year old men with too much chest hair.