Okay, sometimes three’s a party (wink, wink) but certainly not in this case. Sometimes Boyfriend opted for Aspiring Senators Wife/Ex Sorority Girl instead of me again (yawn) right when I happened to have a weekend full of fun plans. Great news! This left me in the perfect spot to… drum roll… find the most physically and emotionally unavailable asshole in Mid City and then a few days later, go on a date: Hot Chef 2.0 AKA Mr. Wrong.
Ahh yes, you might remember Hot Chef so Mr. Wrong was a pretty bad idea considering the record I have with dating chefs. Married to his job? Of course. But I knew that before we ever met for drinks. Emotionally unavailable because of divorce? Yup. That’s where we deviate from the original. But the real problem with Mr. Wrong is the third wheel.
Who might this other be? Not his ex wife. Not his mother. Want to keep guessing or shall I spill the beans?
Apparently he is BFFs with his all-star bartender, a lady with whom I’ve spent several afternoons with over her stellar Hot Toddies, shared giggles over our mutual infatuation with a certain Jamie MacKenzie Fraser and generally enjoying each others company (and my generous tips on a slow afternoon). Turns out she is not my friend, and is actually a conniving manipulator. All great qualities. You go, girl!
A few days after our date, I came in after a big old party thinking that his restaurant was a good idea because a) Pho is great for hangovers b) Chicken and Waffles is on the menu c) Tons of things can get eggs on them. AND d) Not a hot spot during traditional brunch time. (Okay maybe a littttle interest in “bumping into” Mr. Wrong. I also really wanted to bring the crew to my neighborhood so I could crawl into my bed without having to call a cab after grubbing.)
We sat down and ordered and I sent a casual text saying “Hey, we are outside having some brunch. No pressure but if you aren’t too busy and want to say hi…” or something like that. That day they also happened to be smoking a big whole animal: lamb? pig? I don’t know. It happens weekly so maybe one day I’ll figure out what the mammal is and perhaps eat some of it.
After some time, we were literally smoked out and decided to finish up at the bar. Great, I loved (past tense) the bartender. We close out with our server and decide that is a great idea to do shots and order dessert. It was, after all, a celebration! A little while later, I get the most awkward wave from as FAR AWAY AS POSSIBLE from Mr. Wrong. He walks away and I burst out with a giant “THAT WAS AWKWARD!” (Annnd I’m a little drunk.) Then, thinking that the bartender was a friend, I say “Gahhh that was sooo weird, we totally hooked up the other day!” (Okay, that was an overshare and I wish I hadn’t said that…) but then she said WITH A TWINKLE IN HER EYE,
“Really!? Oh my god how was it? I’ve been dying to know…”
And all I said was “He’s a really great kisser (*blush*)”
Later I get a very long, long text telling me that he would not like to ever meet for drinks again because “somehow staff got wind of our encounter and he keeps his work and private life separate yadda yadda yadda, but please continue to enjoy (his restaurant).”
It turns out, he is BFFs with home girl and not only did she tell him that I was being gossipy (which I fully admit was amateur) but she also told him to stay away from me and all kinds of not nice things. WOAH Bitch, you barely know me except that I tip really well and come in for lunch and have a drink and do some work. Thanks for your excellent Hot Toddies. They were my jam. But really, dear, I know you have a crush on him but why don’t you grow the fuck up and be the better person next time because three’s a crowd and I you are clearly stuck in the friend zone anyway.