Instead of dinner, I asked Brent to meet me for after dinner coffee. My superiors suddenly felt like eating out together, so of course, ass-kissing comes first.
I didn't think Brent would still want to meet me after I changed plans in such short notice. It was almost 7:00pm when I cancelled. I lied and told him I was tied up with work, but to be fair I did give him an option to reschedule. I was surprised and a little guilty when he gamely said he'd pick me up any time after I finish.
Instead of coffee we hung out at Gweilo's at my suggestion. It's a good place to enjoy music and drinks, but probably not to appreciate a date. We could barely hear each other over the live band performances, and since I chose a table where we were perched next to each other, we could go on five minutes without looking at each other. This desired effect is actually my genius-- I wanted it to be relaxed and totally informal, like we were old friends. I think it worked well. What guy wouldn't loosen up in an atmosphere of music, beer and a funny companion? (hehe.) On our first date, he was at a home court advantage when he brought me to a new place called Kikufuji and ordered for me. This time, I felt in charge having chosen the place, the food and even our table.
However, things turned around to his advantage again when he announced we would be stopping by Embassy to get his friend in. It wasn't part of the plan; the guy suddenly called him and asked for the favor.
So it was my first time to be inside Embassy, and I totally felt like a man. I don't mean in the confident, testosterone filled conqueror. More like a lame guy who's used to standing around and gawking. While heavily made up girls in dresses that looked like pillowcases and sky-high heels flitted around or clumped together being all girly, I stood at the sidelines in my button down and black slacks. My outfit would've looked good if I was a man-- very clean, rich-looking yuppie. But as it happens, I looked like I was going to do some CSI work.
I shouldn't have told him it was my first time to go to Embassy. I really shouldn't have. He probably thinks I'm a loser. It's painful thinking about it. Being a VIP there, he was able to give me a tour of the whole club. I'm more embarassed now remembering how he looked at me expectantly, and I didn't know what to say. Was I supposed to say, the place is awesome? It surely wasn't. Did he expect me to exclaim, "Why didn't I ever come here before??!" I wouldn't mind not going back there. Guys look glazed, the girls bump into you every now and then, obvioulsy tipsy.
These thoughts must have shown in my face, because he said, "You're not enjoying?" I waved it off. I was enjoying, but only because of the fact that I was experiencing something new again. Who would've thought I'd be in Embassy that night?
After a couple of minutes of standing around, I was touched when he said we could leave if I wanted to. I actually feared he would persuade me to stay or, heaven forbid, dance. He pointed out that I might need to be early the next day and I might be tired (or maybe that part was my imagination). It was already past my [imaginary] curfew. Without so much as a goodbye, we left his friend who was lost in the sea of foreigners, college students and yuppies, and who was with a friend from Las Vegas, who found a couple of girl companions who look like they were picked up from nowhere wholesome.
The good:
1. Enjoyable evening that's full of surprises.
2. As usual, pleased with the chivalrous gestures.
3. Conversation was easier, and he looked better.
4. He steps up to be in control of any situation.
The bad:
I can't think of anything at the moment, except I'm really not comfortable with the fact that he knows every security guard, bouncer and usherette in Embassy.
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