make note of this phrase: “at the bar last night…”

you may be hearing it a lot.  or some variation thereof.  i have a lot of stories from bars that deal with situations which are fueled by imbibing.

so, for the very first time here in this blog, “At The Bar Last Night,” i was sitting with amanda and two random guys who were probably both trying to hit on her.  we were all talking about football.  one of them was saying that buffalo needs a good cold weather quarterback.  he said our problem is that losman and edwards both went to warm weather schools:  tulane and stanford, respectively.  he suggested donovan mcnabb.

i dissented saying that mcnabb was injury riddled and not so spectacular.  he’s good, by all means, but not The Answer for Buffalo.  also, it’s possible that edwards could be molded into a Good Quarterback.

and then, the man grabbed my wrist.  no.  not okay.  i think he was really into the conversation and just very adamant about his point of view, but he grabbed my wrist hard, to the point where, last night, in the moment, i thought i was going to have a bruise this morning.  i don’t, as it turns out, but i can still feel where he grabbed me, and i have a little red mark.

i yelled at him.  i told him not to touch me.  we’re all buddy buddy here talking about football, but hands are not required for this conversation.  i kind of felt bad about yelling at him, too, because i feel like he really didn’t mean it and just got carried away.  so i smiled after yelling at him, telling him that it’s all right, it was an honest mistake, we’re cool… but don’t ever fucking do it again.