Andrew…and the accidental luau.

Okay, if I’m being frank, I honestly can not remember the name of this guy. I even scrolled through my contacts to jog my memory, and came up with nothing. I know I know, I am a terrible human being. But truthfully, it’s irrelevant in this story. The Who in the story is not nearly as importance as the What, When, Where, and Why. Allow me to elaborate.

One night, after having a long week at work, I decided to take myself out for a drink. This is not uncommon for me. I love to get myself dolled up, stroll around town soaking in the fresh air, while on my way to sit alone on a barstool at a fairly empty bar, chatting with the bartender, and pretending to watch whatever athletic event is airing on the television (so I can look occupied and a little less awkward).

When I was looking for a night like this, I had a go-to bar right in my neighborhood (I say “had” because this bar has since closed and I’m still super sad about it). Anyway, I showed up to my local spot expecting the usually empty bar stools with maybe four or five scattered patrons at the bar top or in the cozy booths. The reality was much different than expected.

I pulled open the door (after accidentally pushing it like an idiot, per usual), and was overwhelmed with chatter, loud slurred speech, and a sea of Hawaiian shirts.

“What on earth..” I thought to myself (and possibly said out loud, because no one would’ve heard me anyway)

I bobbed and weaved my way through the Hawaiian-clad crowd to find a single seat at the bar wedged between two groups of intoxicated humans. I quickly flagged down the bartender to order my vodka soda (splash of cran), realizing this night was going to be a lot less chill than planned. I casually sipped my drink, trying to understand how in the world I ended up at a Hawaiian luau. The guy next to me decided to mention how he was in an arranged marriage and is open to the possibility of more than one wife. That’s nice sir, check please!

The polygamist made his exit, and before I could get my bill, a nice young man sat down in his place. Having not been donning a Hawaiian shirt or lei like the rest of the crowd, this young man (we will call him Andrew) knew I did not belong, or at least didn’t intend, on attending this soiree.

We started chatting about who knows what. He explained to me that this was a MeetUp event for some local group, and this was the final stop of a bar crawl. So, that explains the level of intoxication in the room. Andrew and I continued to have drinks and converse about this that and the other. After a while, we had decided we were hungry. Unfortunately, we decided this after kitchens were closed in all the open bars. Ugh, my timing is always the worst.

Then, I had this brilliant idea to go to my favorite late-night spot. Good old Mickey D’s. I knew there was one nearby, so my cheap-self thought it would be a good idea to walk instead of calling an uber. I placed an online pickup order, and we started on our trek.

Turns out, the Mcdonald’s was a mile away. It took us about 25 minutes to walk there. When I went to open the door to the restaurant, it was locked. EXCUSE ME!? A sign on the door explained that indoor dining was closed, and encouraged drive-thru orders. Well, this put us in a bit of predicament as we did not have a car. So, we did what any sane people would do, and we decided to walk through the drive thru. What we did not know, is no one would acknowledge us without the weight of the car to trip the sensors (trust me we tried running, jumping, dancing..nothing. Although, I’m sure they got a nice laugh while watching the cameras), and no one would serve us through the window.

So here we sat. Hungry, and also angry (so I guess that makes us Hangry) that I had a bacon mcdouble and buffalo nuggs being held hostage inside. Then I lightbulb went on, and we decided to call an uber to come pick us up, that could also maybe be willing to swing through the drive thru for us (fingers crossed). We waited for the uber for about 20 minutes before it cancelled. NO!

Okay, now we were reaching the point of desperation. We went to every person going through the drive thru the appropriate way, and asked if they would be so gracious as to pick up my already-paid-for order. Eventually, we got a bite! Halle-fricken-lujah. After finally getting our food, cold but totally worth it, we headed home. We said our goodbyes, and I went to my apt.

I went inside, inhaled what was left of my food, and went to bed.

Even though I had intended on having a relaxing, solo-night, at my favorite bar, that night turned into something I couldn’t have dreamed up. I had so much unexpected and spontaneous fun. Being spontaneous is something that is pretty hard for me, because I love to plan. I love to have an idea of what might happen, or what might be around the corner. But this night was different. I couldn’t have planned for any of the twists and turns that night, and guess what? Everything turned out just fine. Better than fine actually. I think the night was almost made even better by the fact that I couldn’t have planned it even if I wanted to.

I woke up that next day with a full stomach, and a great story to tell. This night wasn’t meant to be the night I fell in love with the guy at the bar. This night was meant to be the night I let go a little, and realized that the world wouldn’t fall apart around me. This night was the meant to be the night I threw away my planner (figuratively, not literally. I could NEVER), and just soaked in life a little bit deeper. I will forever be grateful to the man who approached me at the bar and spent his evening talking to me about everything, anything, and nothing at all. The man who wasn’t afraid to look like an idiot while trying to will ourselves to be as heavy as a car. The man who didn’t give up hope, and continued to humor me as I approached every stranger in a vehicle to pick up my order. The man who walked way too far to get a $1 burger.

To this man, whoever you may be, I thank you. I appreciate you more than you know.

Swipe Right.