Teletubby Trouble

I'm baaaaaack!

And I have more to write about than ever. For those of you who read this regularly (particularly my friend Julia's husband who was kind enough to complain the other day about the lack of new posts - good to know boys think my stories are as funny as girls do!), I'm so sorry for my absence. Between the holidays and work, it was difficult to find time to write, but never fear - the dating did not stop!

While there have been many adventures recently, perhaps one of the most interesting is the story of the Teletubby - and yes, the fact that he was dressed in such a way should have been a clue this would not end well. I met said Teletubby, yellow not purple - a very key distinction to note, on Halloween.

My friend Jamie and I had headed to Sign of the Whale in an effort to stalk Charlie (who everyone will be happy to know I have since cut off all communication with, but more on that later). When my efforts were not panning out, I turned to the nearest boy. Halloween is my favorite holiday, and I'm happy as long as I'm at a bar and in costume, but someone fun to dance with always makes it that much more interesting - and all the better if his costume happens to be a great conversation starter.

Anyway, to skip to the more interesting parts, we exchanged numbers and went out for dinner a few nights later. It certainly seemed that the date went well - after we finished eating we grabbed a drink, and then lingered on the sidewalk saying good-bye (aka exchanging good night kisses - I know, ewwww on the pda). But then he never called!

And no, this was not a case of him waiting for me to get in touch as I texted the next day to see if he might want to do something later in the week. Clearly, he just wasn't that interested - which is fine, but why go to all the trouble of making it seem like you are? I mean, if I go out to dinner with someone and have no desire to see him again, you can bet I bolt out of the restaurant pretty quickly rather than suggesting another date.

Fast forward to December and Holiday Blizzzard of 2010 (16 inches of snow in 24 hours - enough for even this Minnesota girl), and I'd nearly forgotten about the Teletubby incident. As the DC area's snow removal services leave a little to be desired, most people were limited to walking places that particular weekend. In the true spirit of a snow day, my roommates and I gathered up all the Uggs and wellies in the house, pulled on our mittens and trekked to Carpool for one of the most fun Saturday nights I've had since I moved to the area. After a brief stint at Union Jack's, we returned to Carpool to finish out the evening before walking home.

As we flashed our ids at the bouncer, I did a double-take at the guy out on the porch - it was the Teletubby! Not only did he not call, he actually had the gall to show up at MY neighborhood bar - in a blizzard no less! This is not the same as the Corey situation (the bouncer at O'Sullivans) - the Teletubby lives a good 20 miles away, so I never really expected to run into him again, and certainly not in Arlington when the metro is shut down and the only thing moving were a few four-wheel drive vehicles.

I was so flabbergasted, I proceeded to share the entire story with the bouncer, including my absolute incredulity that the Teletubby could be there - albeit, out of costume. Fueled by a hard cider or two, my storytelling skills were just warming up, gesticulating included, when the guy walked inside with this bashful look on his face. I turned from the fascinated gaze of the bouncer (ok, it might have been more a look of amusement as he thought about how his friends were going to laugh when he told them about the "crazy" girl he met at work that night), and asked the Teletubby why he never called.

"I called," he said.

"Umm, no, you most definitely did not," I responded. And then returned to my friends at the bar, why the Teletubby moved off looking nicely chastened (this was not my imagination - even the bartender said he seemed pretty embarassed to have run into me).

Suffice it to say, by the end of the night I had made quite the impression on the bouncer, who now recognizes me each time I walk into Carpool as "the girl with the Teletubby story."

And nothing further from the Teletubby himself - but at the very least, he helped make the Holiday Blizzard of 2010 that much more memorable and continues to be good for a laugh among my roommates.