Sniper

My dear friends Larissa and Beth wanted to go out.  Beth was new in town, and she'd never been to our "downtown."  (It's not much of a downtown.  There's a whole block of stuff, and then nothing.  Thus, the quotation marks.)  So we said we'd take her down, show her the 5 bars, get in a little country line dancing maybe.

We started at this bar that usually has a great live band.  I mean, cover band, but they're still good.  (It's not much of a town for the music scene either.)  Sadly, some kind of alien abduction must have happened, because we were three of a total eight people in the bar.  I'm not even exaggerating.  So we sat there, having our beers and talking about where we'd go next.

For some reason, I started telling a creeper story.  It's what I do.

Then, two girls behind Beth and Larissa started making out.  Now, I have nothing against this, but it's an important part of the story.  And also, it did take me a little aback.  Just like I would have if it'd been a straight couple.  I pointed it out, the girls took a 2 second look, and we went back to my story.

Then an entire glass of beer landed on Beth.

Turns out, the girls thought that these three guys (also behind us) had taken a picture of their little make out session.  And while punching and actually trying to strangle one of them, the girls had accidentally thrown a beer on Beth.

For some drunken reason, Larissa decided to buy the poor beat up fellow a shot.  And then the three boys decided to follow us around for quite some time.

In events following, I somehow found myself the newest recipient of "Sniper's" love.  He got ahold of my phone, and thus phone number, and began calling me.  Not the next day.  That same night.  Whenever I was out of his sight.  (Once I was in the bathroom.  It was not a pleasant conversation.)

I informed Sniper that he was alone in his feelings.  He told me that he was in the army.  (That's the normal pick up line for our town.)  I told him I didn't care.  He told me he was a sniper.  I told him to go away.  He asked me to go see a movie with him.  I told him I thought he was a dbag.  He told me I was sexy.  You get the point.

The following day, I received no less than 30 text messages from him.  Asking if I'd like to come "hang out in the barracks" and other such things.  Occasionally, he must have gotten confused about what "sent" and "received" meant, because he would text me, "I think ur sexy," and then say, "I think ur sexy, too."  And a number of other such one person conversations.

At some point, I decided enough was enough and texted him that there was no way he was ever going to see me again, and that he should just stop.  He then texted me no less than 10 messages about how I must be bipolar, as I had invited him to the movies and called him sexy earlier.

Creeper and stupid.  It's a wonder he's not snatched up yet.

As a side note, I recently found some pictures from that night.  He is lurking in the background.  It's a terrible shame such cute pictures have gone to waste like that.