He shows up at 8:00, ready to go. He feels pretty confident, dressed in an ultra-pale rollneck sweater, new jeans, and leather-and-linen demiboots. He points, winks and casts the "I'm a handsome man" smile across the bar to his awaiting date.
He strolls over to the rhythm of Matthew Sweet's "Girlfriend," and smoothly motions for the bartender. As he orders the first beer, she is enchanted by his serenade of sophistication. He takes the first sip, looks at her and says, "Rolling Rock? Why are you drinking that?"
She is slightly distracted, but still captivated. The first beer tastes like another, and they carry on through more courtship and glasses of beer.
9:00 comes around, and it's time to break the seal. Somewhere between the bar, the bathroom, and the bar, he's lost his beer. Just before he sits back down to order another, she notices a crepe teeshirt slightly untucked from his pants. A little more
distracted, but also slightly more buzzed, she smiles and touches his leg as he sits.
By 10:00, they are both pretty loopy. He's joking and she's laughing, and the rest of the bar is pretty tuned out. With a big goofy smile, he lifts the glass to his mouth, takes a big quaff, and burps audibly. She says, "Isn't that my beer."
"I don't know - I'm sorry."
The music, now Jane's Addiction, has gotten much louder, and other bar patrons are doing some pretty stupid shit.
Just after 11:00, she offers some profound advice, and leaves abruptly after his attempts to touch her shoulder, hand, and face within the prior seven minutes. Maybe telling her she looked "so beautiful sitting there in the dark" didn't do much for the relationship either.
Now that she's gone, he's quite drunk and feeling insecure if he doesn't have a beer with him at all times. He goes back to the john, and tells all the guys in there what happened while dribbling on his shoes. They all have a jolly-good laugh and, having now bonded, leave the john together.
By the time midnight is drawing near, "dog" is picking up the pace drinking, and dancing as he walks around. He's way off the beat to the Chili Pepper's "Warped." He gives a little shake, turns around fast and distributes most of his beer between his sweater and the DKNY blouse of a very pretty girl. Although it's his eleventh faux pas of the evening, she thinks it's funny as hell. They both laugh hard for a minute, then start kissing.
He needs a breath, so he stops, grabs the most adjacent beer, and slams it. The owner of the beer is not happy about it, but sees the poor bastard is beer-goggle drunk, and figures karma has served its return.
12:30 spins around, and the two are completely shitfaced. They leave the bar, stumble over to her house, and break a flower planter trying to get in. He heads immediately for the kitchen, and while fumbling through the fridge for any alcoholic beverage, she becomes much too horizontal to drink any more.
With beer stains all over his clothes, and various stains on his shoes, he emerges from the kitchen with half a flat, Black Label bomber in one hand, and a cold buffalo wing in the other. He sees that his new pal is down for the count, so he decides to skip any attempts at completing the last three courtship steps.
He trips on the carpet, and smashes his head on the doorjamb on the way out to find something a little stronger.