We finally found a bar that didn't have any hipster or slutty pirate patrons. That's because there were six people there, total.
He came over specifically to talk to me.
"What's your costume supposed to be?"
I held up the wig, which had grown uncomfortable after several hours spent at several bars, and explained.
"What about you?" I examined his sweatband, hotpants, sunglasses. "Are you someone from Boogie Nights?"
"No, but that would have been a great idea. I'm just an 80's kid."
Even before he took off the shades, at my insistence, I knew he'd be good-looking. Ridiculously tall (6'3"? 6'4"?), light-haired, blue-eyed, the usual suspect. Except that he was more conventionally attractive than the men I normally like. Very healthy-looking and All-American, he wouldn't have been out of place on a WB show. Willow said he reminded her of Ashton Kutcher.
Turns out Ashtony and I went to the same college, though I graduated a few years earlier. Willow and Cowboy Carl were also fellow alums, so Ashtony bonded with my friends, enjoying the impromptu reunion. When he went to the bathroom, Cowboy Carl turned to me and said,
"Oh my god, he is bad news. I knew his ex-girlfriend in college."
"What did he do to her?"
"There was this weird sex stuff. He also cheated on her three times."
"Good to know."
Ashtony and I flirted, sat close together, smiled at each other. He asked a lot of questions and took pictures, holding his arm way out to get us both in the frame.
"Let's do one where we look pensive." We pouted into the camera.
There was no weird sex stuff. No kissing, even. The smooching circumstances weren't right.
He sent me a drunken text while I was in the taxi home and another one the next morning, translating his previous message. He hopes to see me again.
Once again, I learn that not looking for male attention is the best way to get it.
I would like to see those photos, though.