Internets, you never fail to surprise me. I came home from Columbus on Sunday and noticed that I had a Gmail chat (seriously, look into it) message from Kat. You know Kat. Don't pretend you don't know Kat or I will cut you. Anyway, the message said her friend Ferdinand (aside from Kat's and my own, I have changed the names in the story to protect the innocent . . . or whatever) was going to be in Dayton for a couple days and would I like to get a drink with him. I then had the following conversation with my brain and don't even pretend you don't do the same when people aren't looking, only with your brain instead of mine because if you're having conversations with my brain, I'm sorry, but that is REALLY weird. Anyway:
Jennie: Well, Brain, what should I do?
Brain: I'm tired.
Jennie: I don't care.
Brain: Lemme alone.
Jennie: BRAIN, WAKE UP.
Brain: OK, OK.
Jennie: What should I do?
Brain: Just do it.
Jennie: Do you even know what I'm talking about?
Brain: No.
Jennie: Sigh.
Brain: OK, fine. Here are your options. Do it. Don't do it.
Jennie: Hmm, sounds simple enough.
Brain: If you do it, you might get axe murdered.
Jennie: I hardly think Kat's friend is an axe murderer.
Brain: Do you know Kat?
Jennie: Yes.
Brain: Have you ever met Kat?
Jennie: . . . no.
Brain: I rest my case.
Jennie: What case? That's a terrible case.
Brain: I know. OK, so you probably won't get axe murdered.
Jennie: Thank you.
Brain: But it could be awkward, which is almost as bad.
Jennie: True. But there will be drinks.
Brain: Wow, you're right. Do it.
Jennie: OK.
That is essentially exactly the way it happened. So, Monday night, after a handful of text messages, my friend Tori (not Spelling) and I went to meet Ferdinand and his friend Magellan. Please do not tell me how weird it sounds that I went and met a complete stranger who happens to be friends with someone I met through a blog, dear Internets. I've tried explaining it both out loud and in my head and it is never met with the response, "oh, that sounds like a perfectly logical and rational thing to do," but I DID IT ANYWAY. Because that's how I roll.
So, anyway, Tori and I went to meet them at Cadillac Jack's, which is where we went a few weeks ago when I pretended to be a stewardess. Again, because that's how I roll. And I was pleasantly surprised when things were not awkward, unless you count our waitress who didn't blink. She was either a robot or high and I'm leaning toward the former. In fact, I was pleasantly surprised again last night when coffee wasn't awkward either, unless you count the part where we got caught spying on security guards arresting some guy in Cold Stone Creamery. Like, what do you have to do to get arrested at a Cold Stone? Anyway, as it turns out, it's pretty stupid to drink coffee at 9 o'clock at night when you have to get up at 5:30 the next morning, but at least I wasn't the only one with insomnia.
And those, dear Internets, are the only details you get.
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