And, of course, she doesn’t have my number nor does she know anything that I do other than knowing my first name. So I feel safe in that regard.

Vico, a bit of advice……next time, don’t say anything and let her leave. As long as you didn’t give her your number then it would have been your choice to call her or not (not to call being the better choice in this situation).

Uhhhmmm….. Shawntel Rowell…..and shit.

In my defense, I said that because I just kind of think the sole purpose of dating is to establish something long term and that I should be upfront and say that I’m just not ready for that kind of thing. I wasn’t trying to be judgmental, I wasn’t looking down on her for being a mother (I was kind of shocked that she would be going home that drunk to her children, hence the surprised tone when I asked) at her age, I was just trying to say that I wouldn’t want to waste her time if I knew I wasn’t ready to play a role in her children’s lives. Am I wrong?

Also in my defense, isn’t being a positive role model who gives advice (and shit) called… oh I don’t know, being a father (and shit)?

Bah, that sucked. And a lot of help you were Gabby. Btw, she did reek of jager, so I’m guessing there were more jagerbombs before what you or I saw.

The 22yr old-5yr old kid thing still creeps me out.

Anywho, yay Shawntel Rowell. Let’s talk about him and not the endless series of culture shocks that is my Alabama experience.

Turns out they were agreeing on most everything and, for once, he didn’t resort to talking about the Buckeyes or his job to try to stimulate conversation. I was proud of him. They were chatting on some miscellaneous things like art and movies or some random stuff. I didn’t pick up on all of it because I was doing my best to eavesdrop without making it too obvious that I was listening in. It took me awhile to figure out that she was hammered (as Vic would tell me later that she indeed reeked of booze), and having a hard time standing in her heels in her inebriated condition.

About an hour later and a couple jager bombs for her later (I think I counted 6), her friend grabs her and says they should probably head out. The lady in question gives Vic her digits and Vic says he’ll call and that they can go out on a date some time later. The lady’s friend then says to her “okay, are you ready to go pick up your kids now?”

Vic uncontrollably and kinda incredulously blurted out “wait, you have kids?”.

And then everything goes to hell.

She whipped around and asked if there was a problem with that, and Vic kind of innocently and politely said that he doesn’t feel like he’s ready to be a father figure to any kids at the moment given that he’s only 23, just started getting into the college loans deal, feels that he has some final maturation that he needs to do for himself and doesn’t make a great deal of money in order to commit himself 100 percent to being a father.

After that, this woman unloads on him in the angriest, hatingest, slurred tirade I’ve heard yet. She calls him a godless heathen for not going to church, and says she’s not asking any guy she dates to be a father to her kids, but just be a “positive role model who gives advice and shit” (I remember that line clearly) and not be some godless heathen “with a potty mouth and no sense of religion or values”, even though all obscenities I heard in conversation were from her since Vic is a rather quiet guy. She scolds him for thinking it ridiculous that he’s not ready to be a father at 23 when she’s a 22 year old divorced mother of a 5 year old and 3 year old (the 5 year old thing had Vic’s jaw hit the floor… mine too.) and doing it just fine on her Piggly Wiggly money. She lunges at Vico’s hand and rips away the piece of paper she wrote her phone number on, tears it up and throws it on the ground ultimately saying how judgmental he is and how he will pay for it in the afterlife. She finished it with “God Bless” and her and her friend stormed out of the bar.

Of course, by that time, everyone was looking at him like he had made some kind of suggestive gesture at her, whereas only I and the bartender heard what happened. The look on Vic’s face was priceless. The best way I could describe it is that look a cat gets on its face when it smells something really funky. He was weirded out and stone quiet the rest of the night.

I don’t think we’re going back to that bar, though. And I know Vico will probably try to delete this comment, but I’ll just keep putting it back. It’s too damn funny.

Come to think of it, I probably will have to start archiving anecdotes of the Alabama experience because a lot of them defy rationality.