Just about two years ago, I went out with a group of friends to celebrate one of their birthdays. The plan for the night was bar hopping and there were about six or seven of us, all girls and all ready for a night out. I had been single for about eight months or so and had just had my first real fling after ending a seven year relationship. But it was September, summer had ended and it seemed as if my tryst was coming to an end too.

I had enjoyed myself that summer, especially with the help of my summertime pal, but was also ready to meet new people and was feeling confident. In short, I was (man I wish there was a better term for this) single and ready to mingle.

We started out at a crowded bar where there was a band but not really what we were looking for in general. We were at a table and pretty much stayed there, having a good time chatting but keeping to ourselves. At one point two guys came over and invited us to a party their friend was throwing – one of the guys was cute but we didn’t see ourselves leaving and going to a stranger’s house.

As the night went on and the drinks were flowing, we headed out to another bar. This one was more our speed, it had a band that was more fun, a younger crowd and more room to move around and meet other people. Well apparently I may have spread out toooooo much because there I was hanging out, having a great time and the next thing I know my hair is caught in the trombone player’s trombone!! 

This is not a joke or some sort of euphemism (and yes I know what a rusty trombone is, I learned about it from Betty White’s show Off Their Rockers, not what I’m referring to). My hair was COMPLETELY wrapped around the slide on the trombone and the worst part is, the trombone player said the only way to separate us was for him to keep playing so that my hair would be released. Not sure I believed him, but there I was attached to the trombone as they finished the song. Only one of my friends seemed to notice and I thought I was in the clear until the tromboner (sorry! couldn’t help it) took the mic, announced what happened and asked everyone to give me a round of applause.

Don’t worry, even this did not stop me from flirting. The guys from the previous bar were there as well. And after they stopped laughing at me, we started talking. I thought I was just a tiny bit buzzed but still charming – was that really how I came off? Probably not. One of them was a tall red headed guy named Sebastian and I ever so obnoxiously made a comment associating him with The Little Mermaid (because I’m really who should be making fun of red heads, right?).  Anyways, I immediately turned my attention away from him and began to focus on his friend who I was very attracted to and we began to flirt. We talked for a while, then as it became closing time and everyone was exiting the bar, we kissed and I gave him my number and asked him to call me. I said goodbye to him and left. I don’t think I gave a second thought to Sebastian after my initial comment, it was like he wasn’t even in the room.

I hoped my midnight make out buddy would call but wasn’t going to wait by the phone.  Just about a week later, I got a text from a number I didn’t know saying that they were following through and getting in touch with me just like I requested when we met last weekend. I got excited, how often do you meet a guy in a bar, kiss, and actually hear from them afterwards. I started texting back but something just didn’t seem right so I asked what his name was. “Sebastian, you told me to keep in touch”. UH OH! Sebastian thought I was giving him my number too and that I had hoped to hear from him . . . Not what I had expected.

I exchanged pleasantries with Sebastian, never heard from his friend the kissing bandit and learned two very valuable lessons: WATCH OUT FOR TROMBONES AND ALWAYS PAY ATTENTION WHEN GIVING YOUR PHONE NUMBER OUT.