Monday, July 25, 2011

A Grace Walks Into A Bar.....

Ok, Graces, this is seriously one for the books. It requires a bit of background, so bear with me.

Earlier this week, I posted the following comment on my FB page: "Can we start a campaign to eradicate fanny packs? How about a back pack, messenger bag, sling, tote? Seriously, a trash bag would be more stylish." I got quite a few likes and comments, pretty unanimously agreeing with the proposal.

To elaborate, why would you do this:

When you can do this:Or this?

I was prompted to post the (arguably unGracious) comment after seeing a really glaring display of fanny pack faux pas by a gentleman who crossed my path. He was a large chap, which did not help things, and he had chosen a really unfortunate pair of shorts. Remember Cameron in Modern Family when he went through the bike shorts phase?

Accessorize that outfit with a fanny pack, and, well you get the picture.

Fast forward 2 days from the fanny pack fiasco to the record breaking heat wave. Grant hubby and I had plans to meet another couple for dinner at 7:30. GH came home from work at 6 and announced that he was going for a run. This despite dire advisories from health professionals about the dangers of heat stroke being broadcast from every media outlet.

My reaction: "I can't believe you went to Harvard, you are so dumb." (Ok, not the most Gracious remark, but the heat makes me cranky and I rolled the tape forward and foresaw that his plan was going to risk--gasp--tardiness, which puts me way past cranky, approaching livid.) Off he went, returning sodden but fine, but completely unable to stop sweating in time to shower, dress, and arrive promptly for our dinner engagement. He did have the good sense to look chastened and apologize, and I did have the good Grace to leave without him so that at least one of us would be on time.

I arrived at the restaurant, scanned the crowd for our friends, came up empty, and took a seat at the bar to await them.

The bar was relatively empty save self and a gentleman to whom I gave a cursory glance. He seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite place him. He quickly sat down near to me, said, "Hello" pleasantly enough, and then I placed him. It was the Fanny Pack Guy.

What's a Grace To Do?

Above all, be nice. Regardless of your attraction (or lack of) to said suitor it takes some guts to introduce yourself to a total stranger in a bar. He was courteous, pleasant enough, and even if I was not in the market, it was certainly a compliment to be approached.

I returned the greeting and said, "Sometimes it's a curse to be the prompt one. My husband is running late, literally, and the other couple we are meeting has not arrived yet." [Note strategic and immediate reference to husband; regardless of how vexed I was with my heat seeking spouse, I did not want to convey any implied interest or availability.] To FP's credit, he continued with some small talk and in due course the rest of my party arrived. As we exited the bar to have dinner I shook FP's hand and said, "It was nice to meet you."

Somewhere, someday I hope he will find a fanny pack wearing female that will share his cocktails. I feel sure that he will.

Doesn't it seem to you, Graces, that there's a Karmic message in here somewhere?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Oh, that IS a doozy of a story! Thanks for telling it to us =). And yes, there is some sort of message in there, which I'm not really wanting to hear...hahaha...