Co-inky Dink...Or Not?

I was on the computer last night, dropping comments around the D.C. blogger's pages, when a friend sent me an instant message. He had just returned from a bad date and wanted to know if he could talk through it with "his girls." His girls would be my friend Laura and myself. I rounded her up, and we went into a chat room to listen. I'll call him "George," since the woman he dated said he reminded her of a buffed up version of George Chakiris in West Side Story.

I should say that George definitely falls in my range of what I define as a "guy" guy. He does all the normal things you expect of a man, and there are no quirky little shadows. We were watching the Redskins game on Sunday, and he was yelling at the television during the game, something a "guy" guy does. He's the lucky owner of shared season tickets, so half of the time he's yelling at the Skins live, but on those off weeks, he makes do by yelling at the t.v. During the first quarter, Clinton Portis was getting yelled at a lot on blown plays. I kept hearing "Fuck you, Portis, you fucking suck." This went on until Portis finally did something right, then George said, "We love Portis." I added, "...for the moment." Another talent George possesses that I marvel at is that he can predict the next play before it happens. I told him on Sunday that I had fond memories of my father and brother yelling at the television during sports games. Laura said her brothers and father did the same. Someone needs to add that habit to their potential date's "pro's and con's" list. Last night, while we were waiting for Laura to join us, George told me "Fuck the tuck rule."


George was at a local watering hole. I asked him, "upscale, or dive." "Dive," he said. Sitting at the bar, to his left, was an elderly man. On his right was another guy, and to that guy's right were two women. The younger guy (not the geezer) was talking to the two women as George arrived. The man made a comment to George about a football game on the television above the bar, and when he got to talking to him, he realized he used to play against him at pickup football games. They swapped "how is so and so stories" for a bit. George said, "I wasn't really in the mood to talk...I was pissed that the bar was playing music during the game." "Communists," I said. He joined the group of the man and two women, and they wound up talking at the bar for three hours. He said, "She was definitely showing the signs: hand on arm, compliments, etc." At some point she asked him if he wanted to listen to someone who sounded like Alison Krauss. He said to us, "I was game, so the four of us headed back to her place, but before we left the bartender was giving her a hard time about picking me up." "Orgy time," Laura replied. Laura and I had to divert him at this point to ponder what kind of a woman would ask a man if he wants to listen to some chick who sounds like Alison Krauss. She did other weird things, as well, like played her saxophone for him. I mean..am I missing something?

We asked what she looked like, and George stated, "She had a young Liz Taylor-Lynda Carter thing going." I commented, "you mean like Black Irish: dark hair, blue eyes, fair complexion?" "EXACTLY!," he said. He went on to say that things were "pretty cool" at her house. He couldn't remember the name of the singer she was playing, but he wasn't too impressed. Regarding bar girl, I said, "Does she sit and scream "Fuck you Portis at her television? I think not." He laughed and said, "The evening ended nicely, and "No, I didn't close the deal." Laura said, "Good. We can't have you being slutty." Bar girl asked him to call her later, so when they finally talked, they decided to hook up yesterday and met again at the same watering hole. I'm guessing he was at something like the Grog and Tankard in Glover Park, but he didn't say. Laura and I went off on a tangent about football, and Laura pointed an arrow back to her screenname and typed, "guy guy." I said, "We are guy girls, Lau."



George went on with what he called "pertinent information." The girl had just broken up with her "artsy" boyfriend who had majored in theatre lighting. Laura said, "That's a hard major. I bet he pulled all nighters." I snorted. He said, "Okay. Back to tonight...", but we couldn't let it go. "Can you imagine", I asked, "Theatre lighting is my major?" Laura shot back, "I'd think you'd learn everything there is to know about theatre lighting in three credits." "Two," I quipped, "with one credit for lab." George said, "I love my girls. Group hug." He pulled us back into the story by saying the girl had started pondering if his family would like her or not. This is what I mean about some of her weird ways: Alison Krauss, saxophone playing and "what would your family think of me?" On a first date?

George continued, despite our interruptions. "We're sitting in the bar and out of the blue, her old boyfriend walks in." I stopped him and asked, "Did she set you up for this for some jealousy thing? He just "happened" to walk in?" "Yes, Cubie," he said. "Stringy long hair, smoker's face...I didn't consider him competition." "Not when you look like George Chakiris," I shot back. He went on. "Well..talk about a buzz kill." I raised my hand. "Yes, child?", he asked. My question was, "Is this one of her regular watering holes where she and her ex-boyfriend hung out?" He said, "I didn't gather that." I replied, "Rotten in Denmark time." George observed how her demeanor was with him, so he went off to the bathroom, and when he got back he told her he was going to call it an evening. She walked him to the outside of the bar and as he put it, "handed me a line about wishing that it was the ex-boyfriend that was leaving." George simply said "good night" to her and left.

Laura asked, "Can you tell if a person is sincere or not? Do you have a gut feeling about this girl and what her motives were?" He said, "My gut right now is based on circumstances and her reaction, but my instinct is that I was being used, that it was too improbable to be a coincidence." Laura said, "Well...that's what a coincidence is: an improbable occurrence." We all laughed at that, but we agreed the odds were not in her favor on this one. She said to him, "You're probably not going to call me back, are you?" I told her to go fuck herself." Laura screamed, "GEORGE!" He said, "I felt like saying that, but I only said good night." We asked who chose their meeting place, and he told us she did. Laura told him that in the future he needed to pre-clear his dates with us, and he said, "It sure would have helped in this case." Laura said, "Even if this was co-inky dink (which none of us believe it was), I really think she is on a major rebound, which is not good news either." My take was that she set him up to make her "ex" jealous and try to get back with him. We wound things up. It was getting late. So. What do you think? Co-inky dink...or not?