I hadn't even planned to go to Rich O's last night.

Well my plans for a night in Cincy fell through, partly because of the uncertain weather forecast but mostly because of MixedSignalGirl's unwavering propensity for indecision.

At around 9:00 RealTrainGirl called from Rich O's demanding to know where I was. I told her I was on my way, and indeed I had been in the process of getting dressed when she called.

Rich O's was just barely standing-room-only when I arrived, with an even mix of regulars and strangers. I stood at the end of the bar talking with RealTrainGirl and GreenBeerDude, who looked like they had a jewel heist or something to go to after the bar closed.

GreenBeerDude was also asking everyone he could find what the best and/or cheesiest pickup lines they'd used and/or heard were. Here are three that came to mind:

That sweater looks great on you. It would look even better on the floor of my bedroom.

(In Las Vegas) This is a city just full of beautiful women, yet you make me stop and gasp for air.

(Lick finger and touch their shirt) Let me help you out of those wet clothes.

Rich O's finally had Rogue Smoke, promised to me since Tuesday, on tap, so that's all I drank. Still very good, and actually becoming my favorite rauchbier because it's not that intense.

After a while the throne and the sofa opened up so we all went over there and I stayed until 12:30 or so mostly listening to everyone else talk but also trading a few text messages with LaptopGirl.

While I was (I thought) wrapping up the night listening to karaoke the phone rang. There was an apology, then an invitation. I actually just got home, so I guess I did get to break out of my rut a little, and I guess things between us are actually progressing a little.

At least until the next time.

So the other day I'm talking with this girl and she tells me that she had endured a mutual acquaintance for hours that day. These two had met once, when we ran into him at a bar. This apparently gave my friend all the opening he (felt he) needed. He stopped by her work and spent a couple of hours doing whatever it his he does when he's trying to be "on."

One of the more interesting things that she told me about her ordeal was he had asked her out on a date.

On a date!

Now, my friend knows that this girl and I are not a couple, but he also knows that there is something going on. Exactly what - that's not the point. The point is that he knows I'm interested in her and still decided to ask her out.

She declined the invitation, to my great relief.

Once I got home I found myself calling the guy about it. "You asked her out?" I asked him. "What planet are you from where you're allowed to do that? You know I'm interested, but what, you don't care? You've known me for decades and you think I won't mind something like this?"

I got several semi-apologies and several excuses. My favorite excuse was this one:

I was actually just testing her out for you. Just to see what she'd say.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

I read this somewhere recently. It's very good advice.

Unless you see an actual baby emerging from between a woman's legs, try not to assume that she is pregnant, and if you do make that assumption, for God's sake do not mention your suspicion to her.

VigilanteGirl told a mutual friend that I'm a retard. I asked her about this and she said no, I'm a turd not a 'tard. I don't know which is better.

This (including tomorrow) will be the first full week of work I've put in since before Christmas. Between Holidays and sickness and vacation I've become quite spoiled recently.

Anyway, the other day I told myself what I needed to do. This weekend I'm going to check out a different path. Just a slight scenic detour. I have to work Sunday morning so I'll probably be back Saturday night. But Friday - Friday I'm going to tear across the desert and risk something, or break something, or fix something. Just do something about the ennui that's settled over me. I'm hopeful that whatever I find, good or bad, boring or exciting, will at least be enough to snap me of this little rut.

I need to do this. Wish me luck.

Our tour starts off, appropriately enough, with the main entrance to Rich O's.

The losers all sit here.

Upon entering, and briefly checking out the loser area, I usually check the beer board right away.

On busy nights the regulars will overflow to this front room. Sometimes I sit here even if the bar area isn't completely full - just to get some breathing room.

To enter Rich O's proper, you pass through this doorway. Every single time someone darkens this door I get a brief spark of hope.

The toilet seat from the blue bus, a local landmark.

The view from the throne, where I usually sit if it's available and there aren't any idiots on the sofa or the loveseat.

One of the two tables in the red room. I couldn't get the whole room because there were people sitting at the other table and I didn't want to take their picture. The red room seems to be mostly used by couples. MixedSignalGirl and I sat here once but I think that's the only time I've ever been in the red room.

The small four-seater bar. Only pleasant if the place is empty. Plus, it messes up my nerves.

The island, where I usually sit if the living room area is full of strangers. My seat provides a good view of the bar and the living room area.

Your host for this brief tour. I'm drinking a Gulden Draak here in case you're wondering.

During the first Gulf War, I switched to Diet Coke from regular Coke and lost 30 pounds in a month. Gained it all back over the next few years.

In 1993, I began work as a bartender and lost 20 pounds in five weeks. Gained it all back, and then some, over the next decade.

Last August I thought I was losing some weight.

Last month I started doing something I hadn't done in years. I started wearing a belt to hold my pants up.

Two days ago I did something else I haven't done in years. I started buckling my belt one notch further in.

I'm wasting away here, people.

I've managed to lose 21 pounds since the late Summer by doing the following:

1. Increase my beer intake.

2. Decrease my sleep.

3. Increase my stress level.

I think what I've managed to do is up my metabolism. Those several weeks that my mind raced along about my troubles - I think some of that excess energy spilled over to the rest of me. It's like my internal thermostat got bumped up to a higher level or something.

Some of the shit that pops into my head late at night - it's no wonder I have chronic insomnia.

Back in 1992, before I got out of the Air Force completely but after my security clearance had been pulled, I spent some time filling in at our unit's administrative office.

One of my tasks, given to me as the new guy in the office, was to measure the men who were in what was affectionately known as the fat boy program.

These people, who were at or near their maximum weight, would have to come in once a month or so to get measured.

After getting their height and weight, I'd run a tape measure around their neck and stomach, then look up the results in a body-fat chart.

There seemed to be a fairly constant stream of these people coming in to be weighed and measured. I must have measured the stomach size (touched the stomachs) of several dozen men. I didn't measure the women, the new girl in the office had that task.

So my most optimistic estimate is that I've touched the bare bellies of men more often than those of women by about a five to one margin.

C'mon, ladies! Help me out here!

Chest heaving and heart pounding, he fills his lungs with sweet, sweet air. All of his senses activate at once. He relishes the sight, sound, and smell of his brief surfacing into the world of light. Before going under once again, he uses the last of his precious air to scream out a name. The depths are peaceful, but he knows they will kill him eventually. He begins to sink, smiling.

Like a bottle of Coke that's been shaken up, I've had some pressure building inside my head for quite some time now.

I figured I'd take this opportunity to vent a little of that pressure.

These thoughts are things I should have had the courage and/or courtesy to say out loud. If you know me well enough, you can probably figure out who most of these thoughts are/were directed toward. There are about a dozen people in all.

I do love you, but I'm not in love with you.

You are the most obnoxious and immature and abrasive person I've ever known. Grow up, already!

I am so proud of you. I don't think I could have done what you've done.

If you get any more beautiful they'll have to slap an R rating on your forehead.

I miss you.

Get out of my head, you fucking slut!

Your happiness is staring you in the face each time you look in the mirror.

After starting out so screwed up, you've turned into a very mature and interesting person - one that I wish I knew better.

Recently I've found myself afraid of you, and I don't know why.

If you fuck this up for me I'll never speak to you again.

Please treat her well, she's been through enough bullshit in her life.

Why won't you call?

I find myself a little jealous that you took a chance and got so lucky.

I find myself irritated that she was so sweet and you pushed her away.

I'm so sorry.

Why did I feel closer to you when I lived 2,000 miles away?

If only I'd met you first.

Your smile is the last thing I want to see before I die.

I can define, but I cannot adequately explain, my feelings for you.

You had it made and you drank it all away. How could you be so stupid?

At first we all thought you were too good to be true. Now we know you're just good. Thanks for being there for her.

The potential I see in you cannot be expressed in words alone.

My intentions toward you are not completely honorable.

If only he'd been more of an asshole, then maybe I could have justified being with you.

You are one of the geniunely good guys. I'm honored to know you.

I'm sorry, but you really creeped me out back then, and I've never quite felt comfortable about you since.

Our timing was horrible. I meant what I said though.

I can't help but wonder what you've been told about me.

(response to message)

That was a long time ago, and I honestly haven't thought about it in years. All is forgiven.

What I'd really like to know is this: The night before, did I miss a hint?

I'll kick myself if I did, but it would also help me to understand your behavior.

I really had no idea what I was getting you into.

I just wanted to show you off a little.

How could I have suspected that a person could decrease in maturity as they aged?

I know you can take care of yourself, but this is something you shouldn't be faced with.

I know you'll let me know if I need to intervene.