ice cube

I'm having a smoke outside one of my neighborhood watering holes when I find myself joining a conversation already in progress between two lovely 20-something girls complaining about bad dates and ill-mannered suitors. I share some of my experience in these matters which clearly impresses them both. (When you've been doing it as long as I have, you gotta have something to show for it, right?) After we're done smoking and commiserating they introduce themselves--one of whom, it turns out, I had previously met but I couldn't place her--and we go back inside to our respective drinks.

I return to the corner of the bar where I've been sitting, next to some friends who'd just shown up, but decide after a bit to go join Donna and Melanie, the two girls from outside. They are most receptive and shortly after my arrival Donna is flirting heavily with me.
So much so that I have to slightly avoid her and engage Melanie in conversation, so she doesn't feel left out. Things are going swimmingly, the girls are finishing their drinks and getting ready to order another round, when my friend Malcolm--who'd been chased away from the group he was hanging with by their sudden decision to loudly break into Star Wars' "March of the Evil Empire"--comes over and asks to join us. Donna immediately whispers something to Melanie, and just like that--poof!--the good vibe is killed instantaneously; the girls decide to leave and barely say good night. And then it hits me: "Now I remember how I know Donna."

What happened?

Well, you see, about 2 years prior I had met Donna at the same bar one Sunday night. I chatted her up and we seemingly hit it off.
But at one point in the evening I introduce her to Malcolm, who was sitting a few bar stools away, and she gradually loses interest in me and focuses on Malcolm. I recognize the shift and when she gets up to use the bathroom I let Malcolm know he can pursue her if he wants; I'm a lame duck at that point. He's a bit hesitant to take that step, since I had already put in the work, but I assure him it's OK and give him my blessing.

Donna went home with Malcolm and, from his own account, it didn't end well. He wanted more than she was willing to offer and eventually blew her off, never calling her or anything of the sort. Clearly, judging by this latest encounter, Donna was still hurt.

And so, in a flash of an instant, the possibility of my hooking up with either Donna or Melanie vanished without a trace, thanks to Malcolm's appearance going down like a bucket of ice water over Donna's head. Great. At least I'd already gotten laid that night.

But that's literally another story.