Smooth

Growing up, all my lady relatives said that I was going to be a little heartbreaker.  As it turned out, they were right.  In the sixth grade I dated at least seven girls and I'm sure a few girls reading this could vouch for me about that.  I gelled up my hair and wore sleeveless shirts to school every other day to show off my massive 12 year old guns.  I was the smoothest guy in the sixth grade, no doubt about it.  One day it all changed.

Five years later I find myself on a shuttle bus coming back from a bar dressed in a makeshift ninja costume.   Yes, it was Halloween night, so lets not get worried about the costume.  I reached in the my black scrubs pants pocket where I kept my wallet and cell phone.  I took out the cell phone and glanced at it, "2 a.m."  I slipped the blackberry back into my pocket and listened to the drunken chatter that overflowed the bus.  The girl sitting beside me was nearly passed out, it was obvious she had had one too many.  Her tongue slightly hung out of her mouth as if I had her out running around in the yard to long in the summer sun.  I was thinking about checking her pulse but I could see she was breathing so I figured she'd be fine.  My attention was then taken elsewhere, across the isle were two girls, each made up and in costumes.

Good looking girls, my age, and as we all know a college girl doesn't exactly look for the most concealing costume when she's going out to the bar on Halloween night, enough said.  I thought to myself, "Okay Bryan, talk to these girls, see how the old 'game' is doing."  I sat there for a few minutes, going over in my head what I was going to say.  It was one of those moments where I had what I was going to say and so I kept going over it in my mind about how it would sound or how I was going to say it.  Let me point out an important fact here, I was not drunk during this time, just to get that clear, alcohol can't be blamed for this.  So there I was saying this phrase over and over and over to myself.  "It sounds bulletproof to me," I thought.  I put a flirty smirk on my face, the way I did in the sixth grade, and leaned over and said, "So what are you guys supposed to be??"  Right as I opened my mouth this loud gargoyle voice just unleashed itself.  "Holy hell, what was that?" I thought quickly to myself.  "That wasn't my voice was it?"  Just to point out, it was incredibly obvious what the two were dressed as, one a policewoman and the other a firefighter, what a dumb question.  The two girls looked at me, and gave me this awkward look before turning to face the window and giggle to themselves.  I could named the one girl Crash and the other Burn, it would have fit the situation perfectly.  I didn't blame them.  "Damn Bryan, how did you get so smooth?" I thought, basically laughing at myself.  "What are you guys supposed to be?  What the hell kind of pick up line is that?"  I turned back to the breathing corpse to my right, almost in tears from laughing at myself.  The old "Games" doin' pretty good.