Friends In Low Places

Things with the Camarillo Cowboy started on good footing. He'd made several contacts by phone and proved to be conversationally capable. He was a blue collar working man who owned his own home and several large trucks. He invited me out for an early evening of sushi and depending how the date went, we could go from there.

He was definitely cute--the tall, dark and handsome type. About 36 years old, he claimed his age proudly and said that he was ready to settle and meet the right girl. As we chatted and flirted over dinner, I learned that his stepdad was a pastor at a nearby church. Brownie points! Christian and from a Christian family! In my mind I pictured a close-knit family such as my own, believing and encouraging one another in Christ. Definitely a good sign. He must have liked me too, because he took my hand as we left the restaurant. Sigh*

We had finished dinner rather quickly, and not wanting the night to end too soon, we decided to head out for some pool playing. I was more than happy to shoot pool. Growing up in a family with four brothers and being the only girl, one can imagine how competitive and tomboyish I can be. It's amazing that I wear dresses at all. Playing pool would be my chance to show him I've "got skillz." We arrived at our destination around the corner and headed in.

Looking around, two things became apparent. First, every employee working in the bar was between the ages of "do I look drunk?" to "just went to Vegas for the first time" i.e. they were all about 18-23. No biggie, I thought. We're just the ol' folk out for a night of pool. Nothing out of place there. However, the second thing that I quickly noticed was that EVERY busboy, barmaid, server and bartender in the place knew Camarillo Cowboy by name.

"Dude, where were you last night?" asked one pimply-faced server. (Also, his other name apparently was "Dude.") "We had a killer party and you missed out!"

He responded with a knuckle bump and the "slap hug" guys love to give each other. The server left and my date turned to back to me. Chuckling to himself, "yeah, we were up 'til four in the morning last weekend. They like to come over to my house after the bar shuts down." As I digested this, my date stepped away to answer his cell phone for the third time. (Note to self, this is also not a good sign.)

He had returned. "Four in the morning? Seriously?" I held it together but continued to inquire further. I had assumed to he was over the party scene, But I soon realized I was out on a date with Frat Boy! My visions of him mentoring the poor wayward youth vanished, In its place was a bachelor with his cell phone blowing up every other minute, meanwhile having Oxnard Junior College's finest coming over at all hours of the night. I was stuck. Either head out now or just grin and bear it. I chose the latter and then I beat him at a game of pool.

Lesson Learned: When he has friends in low places, steer clear. I've already been to that rodeo and I'm over it!