Every once in a while, even in a big city like New York, you will run into someone or come across something that will propel you straight into deja vu. This happened to me last Wednesday. Near my old college is a bar that does a drink special in which every bottle of beer is $1 on Wednesdays. Feeling reminiscent, Roomie and I decided to take a trip down memory lane and go.
Nearby sat your average group of guys in their late twenties. . .while this normally elicit a second thought, the sight of them in this college bar, especially the sullen friend in the middle, propelled me straight back to my 19 year old self – the girl who carried around a fake Maryland I.D. and was known to rock a slight twang when she felt like she was talking to some guy she’d never plan to see again. It didn’t take long, back then, to realize that being a doe-eyed Southern girl was like crack for New York males used to loud attitudes, which in turn equated being bought more drinks than I could possibly want.
On one such night, my target had been a reasonably attractive guy who was sending off “LEAVE ME ALONE” body language louder than the neon lights advertising a seedy strip club. Noticing that his friends were talking and flirting with girls, I knew the challenge had been set for me, whether he was aware or not. After a few hours of coaxing the friendliness out of him, he eventually asked for my number.
Therein was the problem. Not only did I think he was actually kind of cool and fun to talk to, Scott NYPD was a police officer and 26 who knew me as 22 year old Sally, a small town girl from Maryland. . .obviously none of those things are true. Being the crazy, invincible 19 year old that I was, I decided to let it play out. After 3 or so weeks of playing the part, our courtship fizzled. . .I grew tired of the role and he grew tired of getting rejected and pushed away.
Every once in a while, like this past Wednesday, I’ll see a guy who so reminds me of those weeks and it will make me wonder about whatever happened to good old Scott NYPD and if he ever thinks back to that crazy Southern girl he met one night over wings and cold frothy beer.
Chasing Bliss 
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