So, Frosty and I are sitting at the bar last night and he's going on and on how he's not good at talking to strangers and it's weird that he has beers with me because I'm this internet stranger. I laugh, but he seems pretty serious about being bad at conversation with people.
He apparently decides on the spot to work on this by yelling across the bar to this older biker looking dude.
He says the following, "Hey, how's it going?" Guy give some non-commital response and then Frosty says, "Why don't you come over here and sit down?" And I swear to god, he pats the bar next to him like he's looking to get cozy. Just some random dude from across the bar. I start cracking up as it totally looked like Frosty was trolling for dudes.
The guy actually comes over though. When he gets about 5 feet away, Frosty gets a little scared and excuses himself to the bathroom. So, now I'm stuck chatting it up with this dude. He's in a band of course and says he has to get going because this chick called him and said she'd give him a bj. I'm pretty sure he says this as a nice way of saying he hasn't caught the gay yet. He ends up just going back to his spot at the bar and drinking for awhile before leaving to receive said blowie.
Frosty also implored me to engage another dude at the bar later. So, we ended up learning the life story of Mark, the half-irish/half-israeli photojournalist.
We'd made plans for last Friday for some outdoorsy activities, but it rained and so she texted me at lunch about the inclement weather. I texted her back that she should come by my place at 8 and we'll figure out a plan B. She texts back "How about I just bring dinner to your apartment and we watch another movie 
" (Yes Aaron, she included the wink.) 
And she mounted a stripper pole in the middle of her living room. "Oh, that. I took pole dancing classes." 
Although I do like rice.
