I have been trying to put the words together to write this tale. A tale of betrayal and love rejected. A tale of heart ache and Diet Coke.

You have all traveled on the journey with me. Witnessed the glory of the water. Tasted the Diet Coke with lime. Marveled in that which is Bobby, big, strong masculine hands and all.

Now I have to tell you what happened on Sunday.

Beth and I were sitting at our table (yes, it is ours. No, it does not have our name on it but that’s where we always sit. One of the reasons why we go to karaoke so early) and Michael came over, asking if he and some of his friends could join us. We were thrilled with this. Michael is lots of fun and some of the people now sitting at our table were Angie and Amy who are very talented singers and also quite funny. Sitting across the table from me was Beth and then sitting next to me was Beth.

Yes, I was confused as well. The Beth across the table is the Beth you have heard many tales about, Sheepsheadian Stories Beth. Sitting next to me was Beth, a friend of Michael’s. In fact, she refers to Michael as her bar dad.

Anyway, Beth…oh, hell, this is truly confusing. Okay. Beth is Beth, B2 is the 2nd Beth.

Anyway, B2 had recently broken up with her boyfriend and was not overly fond of men at the time. I am not going to go into details but believe me, if somebody wanted to start singing “Another Somebody Done Somebody Wrong Song,” they would have been at the right table. She was in what I would refer to as a mood. But she was very funny so that is okay.

So, at one point, she makes the remark that there are not any hot looking men at The Chalet. I, of course, took offense to this because there is Bobby and Bobby is smokin’. Yeah, I can’t believe I used the word smokin’ either.

Here is our conversation.

B2: There aren’t any hot men here!
DM: That’s not true. Bobby’s hot.
B2: Yeah but he’s taken.
DM: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (falls to knees)! Oh, the humanity!

Okay, that didn’t actually happen. This was my actual response.

DM: Yeah. But he’s still hot.

So, anyway, my dreams of a lime studded wedding gown are no more but you can believe me that I am still going to be staring at his hands. I probably won’t be worrying about what I say to him when I am in my Diet Coke with a slice of lime induced trance. Or looking at him when I sing “Change the World.” Or looking for the perfect, cleavage enhancing shirt.

Not that I would ever do any of those things. I am subtle with my crushes. They never know. I am subtle. Like a fox. Subtle is my middle name. Yep. Right after Marie. Dana Marie Subtle Jones, that’s my moniker.

You’re not buying this at all, are you?

Previous Comments:

At 6:21 PM, brooksba said…
DM,Oh. I felt the devasation the moment B2 said that. But Bobby is still fun and nice. We can still talk to him. Do you want me to still try and get him to slice a lime for your birthday? I can do it if you want. Beth
At 2:44 AM, Robert ~ Marlénè said…
“Taken”? That’s all you got? Not “by whom” and “how seriously”? You give up too easily.Faugh, says I. Taken? Like that ever stopped anybody. Now is the time to start plotting to undermine and/or do away with whoever took him. Relationships can be broken up, so easily (not that you’d ever do anything so underhanded, of course; but you can plot it anyway).But then, crushes have so little to do with availability. My best crushes are on straight boys with whom I don’t have the remotest chance. It’s all about the chase with a crush… once you catch them, the fun is over.
At 12:49 PM, Matt said…
I am so so so sorry to hear that DM, I truly am. But like Beth says, he is till fun and nice to talk to. I still think that you diving over the bar into his arms might be an effective, if not amusing, tool to use to gain hios affections. But c’est la vie, you can still go on fantasizing and romanticising about his hands, those big, strong, muscular hands that hold the lime so gracefully, as the knife slides through layer upon layer of rind. Slowly, methodically, he slices the limes into the perfect shaped wedges just for you, not too big, not too small, just perfect. Maybe even a small smile tracees his lips as he thinks of you coming up to the bar to ask for your diet coke, with a slice of lime. He thinks of how your beautiful face is there in front of him, the smile on your face that is lighting up the bar, the wanton lust and desire in your eyes. He smailes, grabs the cup and fills it with the ice. You watch as his hands flex, and then unflex, around the glass and the spray gun from which the liquid ambrosia flows. He hands you the glass, your fingers slightly touch his around the glass, you can feel the tingle of desire from him go through his strong, manly fingers straight into yours. You walk back to the table and sit down, ready to start another night of karoke. Hope that helped you out. I will talk to you later,Matt
At 3:54 PM, DeAnn said…
“Taken” is definitely not enough information. You need DETAILS lady!!What are you doing, not getting all of the details for your loyal readers? (even if some of us have to play catch-up because we’ve been so sick!!)I’m glad to be back!! Hugs to you and Beth (but not B2, because she is the bearer of bad news).

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