The Model

At Janelle's 23rd birthday party, things got a bit out of control. To say the least. Open bar always leads to bad decisions and great stories.

But one of the most intersting occurances was definitely when a girl handed me a glass of champagne. I'm not even really sure how I ended up near her. But we chatted for a few, and she said she had just moved to New York from Washington state and worked for some random modeling agency. I then wandered back to my friends, double-fisting with my possibly roofied champagne. I finished my glass and decided to return to my new female friend to thank her for the drink.

She then offered to get me another, which I attempted to refuse. Of course, my protests were ignored and I soon had another glass to down. This girl, whose name escapes me, then told me that I was by far the prettiest girl at the bar. I found this both incredibly surprising and surely untrue. So I told her that was not possible, that I was average to somewhat above average at best, and that I was clearly missing the boat. She insisted with me that my "whole look" was just great and that I was incredibly pretty. And that I totally had the wrong attitude about everything and that it was holding me back. She introduced me to the guys she was with, and I chatted with them for a few more minutes. I then wandered away again, completely lost and confused about what had just occurred. I didn't chat with her for the rest of the night and we did not say a proper good-bye.

I am quite confused about what this girl was doing. Trying to make new friends I guess. But I mean, prettiest girl at the bar? Is that a pick-up line? Or did she think complementing me would make me want to be her friend? Perhaps she wanted me to model with her? Maybe if I lost 20 pounds and grew about 8 inches. I mean, if she was really trying to pick me up, why didn't she ask for my number? Did I flee too soon? Or seem ungrateful for the complements? Very confusing. And really, really bizarre.

Yet still strangely flattering.