Three

I love karaoke!  For my birthday, my friends and I went to karaoke where I like to think I wowed the audience with my rendition of “Shoop.” My sister made a chocolate cake for the occasion, and when it comes to chocolate, I must share it otherwise I’ll eat it all by myself in record time.  Therefore, I had to offer it to the guys at the table next to us.  Earlier my friends and I were playing the game “gay or hipster?” (rather than "gay or European") and if the guys were hipster, whether or not I should ask out one of them.  I decided they were hipsters, but remember typically hipsters don’t love me because I’m always decked out in colors and have an over-the-top cheerful personality.  Apparently cake (or maybe my dress made from Star Wars sheets) is the uniting factor of our worlds, though, because after cake was shared and songs were sung, our tables were chatting.  I had my sights on the tall, skinny hipster (complete with skinny black jeans, flannel shirt, and sketchy facial hair), but it was a tough decision because another possible reason I don’t often have luck with guys is because (1) I never know which guy to focus on in a group and (2) I don’t want to pick the one that always gets picked because then I feel badly for the others (egotistical or do I just have a bleeding heart?).  Three was the tall, skinny one and he hadn’t sung yet; he informed me (when I asked if instead of a singer was he the back-up dancer?) that he was the encourager and supporter.  In the midst of our conversation I handed him a song request that I filled out earlier and told him, “Here’s a song request for next time.”  Without so much as a glance at the paper, he said "Okay" and walked away looking slightly confused.  The request:

Name: Penelope

Song: I WANT YOU TO WANT ME

Song #: 415-555-7949

Key: It’s my birthday week - let’s go out!

The evening went on without any awkwardness and was full of more singing and dancing.  As the guys left they told us goodbye and that we should come by there on a Sunday with them.  After they left, we saw a folded up karaoke slip on our table that said “SONG REQUEST FOR NEXT TIME”

Ph(F)ilomena, You are offensively beautiful, stop that.  –Three 415-555-1342

Um, my name isn’t Philomena or Filomena, that’s one of my friends that was with me.  Seriously, dude?  You either (a) aren’t the brightest because I wrote my name on the paper I gave you (b) aren’t clever enough to ask my friend out using a different method than the one I used on you or (c) are a jerk.  My friends were all “Oh I bet he just mixed up the names.”  Whatever, I wrote my name down for him, so he should have double-checked.  I’m not an emotional sap, and in the end it made the story funnier to me.  I’m not calling him, though; I gave him my number first, and because I don’t want to see his sad face when I walk into “our” date instead of Ph(F)ilomena.