“Damn,” The Admiral said while looking across the bar. “That girl is hot.”
“Then go talk to her,” I replied.
“Her friend is a bigger girl, so you need to take the bullet,” he said.
“Do something about it, then,” I said. “When we’re talking to them, I’ll go about it.”
A few minutes pass until The Admiral gets the courage to approach. He finally walks over, begins talking, but I can see it’s not going that well.
I walk over, talk to someone else around them and saddle into a seat nearby, just chilling.
“Remember that time…”
He brings me into the conversation and like a good teammate, I introduce myself and focus on the bigger girl.
Now, she wasn’t that fat, but a bit overweight. If it was 1:59 and she was still around and the choice was to either bring her home, or beat my dick like it owed me money, I’d have her blow me in my car, then go home.
Once I began talking to her, I knew it was on if I wanted it. I didn’t.
He wasn’t getting anywhere — but the friend was all over me.
A friend of the girls rolls up and my friend’s target is concentrated on him. It’s not a boyfriend/girlfriend dynamic, but good friends.
The Admiral, still settling into who he is as a man, backs down.
I continue the conversation with the target’s girl friend after introducing myself to the guy, but The Admiral is backing away. He excuses himself to the bathroom.
Both girls want to go dance, but my buddy isn’t about it since the other friend interjected himself, so I pull back.
“It was nice meeting you guys,” I said. “Have a good night. We’ll probably see each other again.”
And that was that.
The Admiral didn’t kiss her or get a number. He was just there.
If I’m going to take a bullet, or charge, for the team, you better put some more effort into it.