Tuesday, September 07, 2004

Crash + Stuff + Booze =

Chaos.

Stuff, Hugh and I went out for cocktails last night at S. Diddy (a/k/a Splash, SBNY, Splash Bar, etc.). What started as a welcome back for Stuff quickly turned into a drunkarama.

Man.

I lost track of the number of drinks, but my wallet was empty when I went home, so it had to have been pretty high. Especially considering it was two for one.

Turns out that Monday nights is musical theater night at S. Diddy. So the place was stuffed to the rafters with current chorus boys, ex-chorus boys, ex-chorus ex-boys, you name it. At the table next to us were about half a dozen cute early twenty-somethings. Being bitchy old queens, we nicknamed several of them (okay, it was mostly me nicknaming them). There was the Nose (cause he had a big nose), Aqua Man (his shirt was blue green), Token (the girl), Dancing Queen, a couple of others not worth nicknaming, and finally, there was Stoic.

Stoic was good looking. He had auburn hair. He had a great build. Where his friends were loud, he was quiet. They were up dancing and screaming, he sat watching them. Not embarrassed or anything like that. Just enjoying their energy without joining in.

I was captivated.

Much later in the evening, as I was approaching what I've decided to call my FARB (Famous Author Rob Byrnes) threshold, Stoic started chatting with me.

I was gobstopped.

Now for the life of me, I have no recollection of why he was talking to me. Clearly, given my absolutely retarded social skills when it comes to speaking to guys I find attractive, I didn't talk to him first. So how did we start talking? I wish I could remember.

Anyway, it turns out Stoic is a dancer in "Movin' Out". Hence the great body. We had a nice little chat, most of it lost to me in the haze of ethanol fumes. I remember talking about meeting one of his castmates at Marie's Crisis some months ago. He gave me a little dish on the guy. And that was that. He went back to his friends and left a little while later.

I wish I had a better ending to this tale that I could share. Something about going back to my place and finding out how limber dancers are, etc., but that is sadly not my style. Still, it was nice having a good looking Broadway dancer chatting with me for a while, so I'm going to call it a good night.

Plus it was great hanging out with Stuff and Hugh.

10 comments:

David said...

Aww. Maybe you could find him on their web site or something and send him an email.

Rob Byrnes said...

FARB Threshold = how much one should drink = 4. Cool! I'm a measurement now!

Oh... and welcome home.

Crash said...

FARB threshold is the point at which you are incapable of getting home from a bar without being sick, getting lost or tricking with the Evil Puppeteer.

Crash said...

BTW, I've called it that due to your uncanny ability to get up and leave the bar right before reaching that point. You generally are able to reach the FARB threshold without crossing it.

Though I do remember you getting lost on your way home one time . . .

MzOuiser said...

Welcome back Crash! So good to read you again. Ahhh...redheads.

Hot Toddy said...

Hope you're not mad about all the e-mails you returned to... :)

Wayne said...

Yer suppose to get him very very very drunk...and then... wel... :)

Crash said...

On the contrary, Toddy, I enjoyed all 300 some odd of them.

palochi said...

Evil Puppeteer?

Homer said...

Auburn hair and a dancer? There is a god after all...