Poetic Justice? Maybe, But I Don't Like It: Dibbs

Last week I met some friends of ours to hear a band. Some of us were there, actually. One couple, we'll just call them Lucy and Edward, brought a guy with them. He was actually cute. And nice. I was shocked. I told the wife-half of the couple I thought so. She informed me that the guy would be back next week to hear another band. "Good to know," I noted. I talked to the cute guy for the rest of the night, and I went home.

Spring forward to last night. I saw Lucy and Edward at a baseball game. Lucy forgot I thought the guy was cute. Edward set the guy up with another girl. She was meeting everyone at the bar. Of course. Because this is how my life rolls.

I got to the bar. The guy hadn't arrived yet, but the girl had. She was really nice. A little plain, not a stitch of make-up, but very, very nice. The guy walked in. It was like Jake meeting freakin' Vienna on the Bachelor. Sparks flew. Bam!

Here's the poetic justice part. That girl went to the same college I did for one year. She was a freshman when I was a senior. I don't remember her. She was a basketball player, but she had an injury. She told me she did nothing for a year but sit in her room and play video games. So...while I was running around being fraternity sweetheart and thinking I ruled that place, she was sitting in a darkened dorm room playing Super Mario Brothers III on Sega. Spring forward fifteen years and a few nasty crows feet, and she gets the guy. I liked this $hit a lot better on Square Pegs.