runrunrun

So last night went rather well, sort of. I picked up Megan and going to a bar instead of dinner, which I was hoping for. But it was late by the time I picked her up and she had already eaten. She's kinda quiet, so I had to do most of the talking at first, with a few awkward silences. After a couple of beers she loosened up and we had a really nice conversation at the bar.

After meeting up with my buddy and his girl, we headed over to the party. I felt like a total ass carrying my guitar into the party, and after we got there, it became painfully obvious that we were not going to go over well. They had a dj playing hip hop, and most of the people seemed to be into it. So we decided we would put our "performance" on hold until we had a more receptive audience in the future. Since I didn't feel like holding my guitar all night, and the party was two blocks from my house, I decided to run home and drop it off. As soon as I got outside, some idiot from the balcony said "Hey, the guy with the guitar is leaving." The last thing I wanted was for people to think I'm one of those people who bring my guitar to parties, I can't stand that shit. Not that I care what some asshole thinks, but I just hate drawing attention to myself like that.

So me and my friends ended up back at my place and put on some music and Megan showed me how to dance like Mick Jagger, which I am completely unable to do. She got kinda drunk, which I feel responsible for because I kept handing her beers. I hope she doesn't think I was trying to use alcohol to get in her pants, because I wasn't (and I didn't, sadly).

Speaking of getting in her pants, I tried to put the moves on her a couple times, and I'd say I was given a lukewarm reaction, at best. Oh well.

Tonight it's off to the club for 80's dancing! I'm thinking of dressing up, but we'll see.