A Great Story for Abstract Amy

Since my posts have been so ridiculously boring, I'll take this time to share my "love lost" story with you and especially Amy. Ok..I'm still boring, it's not really love lost, but I had to throw some excitement in there. HA!

Picture this: Sicily, February, 1996 (Golden Girls anybody?):

I was in college, and I wanted to do something fun for Valentine's Day. I hadn't had a Valentine's date since 1992. I hung out with friends or did nothing, but this year I wanted to do something special. I hung out with tons of boys in a fraternity every Thursday, Friday, Saturday (whatnot). Those were my friends, but none of them were ever guys that I liked liked. Some were cute, but I couldn't hook up with them for fear of hearing about it from the other guys so I a)snuck around and promised to cut their balls off if any of them shared or b)didn't mess with them.

So, after thinking and thinking about who I would invite to Valentine's dinner, I asked one guy named Brian. He hadn't been around much, and we got along fine. I thought it would be a fun time for us to just go out, get drunk, and have a good time. Nothing too crazy, just fun. We'd catch up with the others after dinner.

I saw him in the gym, and asked him if he would want to go to Valentine's dinner with me at this cool restaurant called B-15 or something like that. It was an airplane themed restaurant, and I heard that the food was a bit pricey, but really good. You know I like nice things, so I didn't think anything of it. I would treat and we would have fun. I told him that I was only asking him because I missed seeing him around. I also told him that if he got a Valentine that year, to let me know so I could ask someone else. The requirement wasn't very difficult.

I didn't really see him before Valentine's, so I called him the day before to settle up the plans. He said "Oh, hey, I was just about to call you." In boy speak, that means, "I have something to tell you, but I didn't want to call and tell you." I said "What Brian," with a very steady tone. He said, "I have a Valentine." So I said "Oh..well when were you going to tell me? Who is it? It's the day before Valentine's. What are you guys planning to do? Where are you going?" I seriously asked a million questions in 2 seconds. He said "I don't have any plans, and I don't know what I'm going to do. I guess I'll cook." So, I said, "Well, sounds great. I'll call someone else. Bye." And I hung up the phone.

I called a few other boys and they were like "We're hanging out with the guys. We can't hang out with you." They weren't so mean, but that's it in a nutshell. I was hot. I didn't want to go to the restaurant by myself, and I thought "Why couldn't Brian just told me at least a day before." So, I ended up calling Brian back, and saying "I'm not going to use my reservation, so just go on and take that girl (I want to say her name was Mandy) to the place and have a good time." He was happy and said thanks. I guess I felt ok about that. As long as someone was going to use my reservation, it might as well be him. No hard feelings.

Fast forward to Sicily, April, 1996:
I'm at a fraternity party and I see Brian. He has some chick with him, and I get the scoop on her and find out it wasn't Mandy. When he was alone I asked him how his date went on Valentine's Day. He told me that he took the girl to the fancy restaurant and things went well. She was happy, he was happy, they hooked up, blah blah. So then I said "Well, if things were so great, where is she, and who is this chick you're with?" He said, "After Valentine's day, Mandy never called me back. I called her several times and she didn't return any of my calls." I said "Oh, that sucks." He said---GREATEST LINE EVER--"I should've gone with you." I just smiled, and said "You're right. Your loss." Then he said "Don't tell Michelle (that was the new girl at the party) about that." I said "Why would I tell Michelle anything? I don't know her, and the fact that you dissed me is between you and me. It's cool." We hugged and that was that. We hung out a few more times at parties and stuff, but Valentine's Day 1996 was never spoken of again. Sure, I told the other guys that Brian totally dissed me, but so what?

I'm just happy that he spent all that money on some lonely, money-hungry girl and I had the last laugh (and I had an awesome Valentine's anyway).

So, the moral of the story for Amy is that sometimes the fact that someone regrets something is the best ending ever. This is only 1 of my "I wish it was you" stories I have had in my lifetime. I can honestly say that I have never had any of those stories for myself. No regrets, baby, no regrets.