Singing Hard, Lounging Around

Submitted by John:

Jillian and I were packed together on a double seat on my regular rush hour train to the city. She was drop dead gorgeous, and I still can't believe that I mustered up the courage to talk to her.

She was from a town two stops before mine, worked in international finance, and was a lounge singer every other weekend. Somehow or other, right before we made it to our final stop, I asked for her number, which she gave me.

I called her the next day, a Tuesday, to see if she wanted to meet up that weekend.

"It took you long enough," I remember her saying, "I was wondering if you were ever going to call."

She said that she was going to be at her lounge singing gig that Friday night and Saturday night and asked if I would go and watch her sing. I was into the idea, and offered to take her out for drinks afterward.  She went for it.

I planned to call her once or twice before then to check in and see how she was doing, but each day, she beat me to the punch, calling me up first to talk and talk for close to an hour each time.  Even when we ran out of things to talk about (she wasn't a great conversationalist), we'd stay on the phone in silence.  When I'd try to wrap things up, she'd ask me a random question, out of nowhere, like, "What's your favorite color?"

That Friday night, I went to her bar, a nice, dark place I had never been to that overlooked the city.  It wasn't too busy, and I sat myself down at one of the tables, ordered a drink, and enjoyed her set.

Afterward, she came up to me, and she didn't seem happy.  "Where are your friends?" she asked.

I had no idea what she was talking about.  "What friends?" I asked her.

"I told you to bring as many friends as possible.  The owner is thinking about canceling my act, because not enough people come in.  I asked you to bring a group.  You're telling me that you're it?"

Never, and I mean never once in our entire week of talking, did she mention a single thing about me bringing anyone other than myself.  I would have remembered that, as "bring friends" is girl code for, "it's not a date."

I said, "You never told me to bring friends.  I thought that it was going to be just us?"

"Just us?  You and I?  Ugh.  Dream on.  No."

Over the past week, on the phone, she made it seem as though she practically couldn't live without me.  Who was this person?

Having detected ample amounts of crazy, I started to leave.  She said, "If you think you're going to leave without at least buying me a drink, after this stunt, then you're out of your mind.  You've got a lot of nerve."

I called a waiter over and asked her what she wanted.  She ordered one of the most expensive martinis on the menu.  After the waiter took her order, I stood up, said, "Enjoy your drink," and bolted out of there.