On the Rocks(25)

“With this new attitude, finding a nice rebound guy will be like shooting fish in a barrel.”

“Americans shoot fish in barrels?” Wolf asked.

“No, it’s just an expression. It means that it’s easy,” Bobby answered, growing frustrated with Wolf’s completely reasonable questions.

“Why wouldn’t you say that it’s easy to shoot fish in the tank then?”

“I actually have no idea. Don’t ask me questions I don’t know the answer to, dude!” he said.

“That means don’t ask Bobby anything,” I quipped.

“Now can we finish this Scrabble game? Wolf, no more abbreviations. Deal?” Bobby said as he turned his attention back to his Scrabble letters.

“Okay,” Wolf said, still proud of himself for proving that BMW is in fact a marvel of German engineering. “Abby, I know a guy here I can set you up with. He’s super-nice, I think you’ll like him. Why don’t I give him a call? Maybe you can meet him for a drink or something.”

“A blind date? I don’t know how I feel about those,” I admitted.

“Stop it,” Bobby snapped. “Blind dates are awesome. You think Wolf is going to set you up with a freak? You should go. You need to explore as many avenues as you can.”

“What’s his story?” I asked Wolf. I figured I was fully within my rights to get some details on this guy before I agreed to meet him. Considering what guys were doing these days to vet girls before they dated them, a few simple questions seemed completely reasonable.

“What do you want to know? His name is Paul. He’s thirty-five and girls love him. He hasn’t had a real girlfriend in a while, but I think he wants one. I’ll call him and set it up. I want to help!”

“You know what? You’re right,” I said, realizing that I’d be stupid not to accept his help. Wolf was one of the nicest people I’d ever met. If he thought his friend was a good guy worth meeting, then I had no doubt he was. “Okay, Wolf, let’s do it. If you set it up, I’ll go.”

And just like that, I had a plan. I couldn’t focus on the rest of the game because I was too busy mentally running through the entire contents of my closet and trying to quell the excitement I was feeling. I was ready for the great dating project of 2012 to begin.





Chapter 7



If You Can’t Join ’Em, Eavesdrop on ’Em




A FEW HOURS later, after two more rounds of Scrabble, multiple rounds of drinks, and an hour-long nap, the four of us walked down Thames Street heading for the bars. For the first time I realized something horrid: I was old. Not old old, but bar scene old. I stared at some of the girls walking ahead of us, shrieking and laughing, already sufficiently drunk and speaking at a decibel level that alerted everyone within a three-block radius to that fact. At some point while I was dating Ben and staying blissfully unaware of what was happening on the social circuit, a change had occurred. Girls started leaving the house practically naked. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying anyone had to dress like the nuns I worked with, but let’s just say, if a normal person owns a dish towel larger than your skirt, you’re probably a bit scantily clad. If this had been Vegas, it wouldn’t have surprised me, but this was Rhode Island. How was I going to compete with half-naked twenty-three-year-olds who knew all the cool places to hang out and what style of jeans were in and what it meant to have a tumblr account?

When we arrived at 41 North, I immediately approached the bar and asked the bartender for a cocktail list. He was tan and muscular, his white uniform making him look like he belonged on an episode of The Love Boat instead of making watered-down cocktails that cost fifteen bucks a pop at a bar in Newport. But the recession was causing everyone to take a shot at reinvention, so really, who was I to judge? I ordered Dark ’n’ Stormys for Grace and myself, but when I turned around to hand her drink to her, she was scurrying off into the corner of the room.

“Where are you going?” I asked, almost panicked at the thought of being left alone at the bar.

“Sorry, I have to take a quick call from work. I’ll be right back,” she said casually.

“Please don’t leave me!” I joked, looking around at all the strangers and knowing that I was terrible at making small talk. I didn’t want to be the girl standing alone in the bar, hoping that someone would talk to her. I had thought that by the time I hit thirty I’d have outgrown the fear of being alone in a crowd, but apparently I was a late bloomer. “Who am I going to talk to?” I whined.

“I’ll be right back, and you’ll be just fine. Go mingle. You can talk to people, Abby. I have complete faith in you,” she said as she walked off.

“Sure. I’ll just mingle. Because I’m good at that.” I sipped my drink and glanced nervously around the room. Bobby wasted no time invading the dance floor with his ridiculously uncoordinated dance moves, and Wolf stood to the side saying “Guttentag” to every pretty girl who walked by. I took my drink and stood next to Wolf. While I watched people dance with each other, I couldn’t help but have the same thought I’d had on the walk over: I’m getting old. When did that happen?

“You know what’s funny, Wolfie?” I asked with a sigh.

“The girl in the corner dancing with the wall?” he asked. We both turned to stare at the very intoxicated girl in a short spandex dress slow-dancing with the wall. That was one I hadn’t seen before.