one spilled beer, one ruined evening

Lindsay and I had planned on having dinner and shooting some pool tonight, and rather than the pleasant evening that I was expecting, I entered into the Twilight Zone. Things started innocently enough with a game of pool and some beer. This was at a bar she frequents often, and she knew some of the guys that were there. To give her credit, the girl can shoot some pool. Me, on the other hand, cannot...a fact that I freely admit.

Her and the guys were talking some trash, and she was taking some liberal pot shots at my game too...but being all in the name of the 'trash talk' spirit, I didn't mind. I didn't partake in it, however, because when your game sucks, you tend not to brag too much. So as the evening wore on and we were winding down and getting ready to head off to dinner, it so happened that 1) I was standing somewhat close to her and 2) she was talking with her hands, and 3) we were both feeling buzzed, me from two and a half beers and her from three beers and a shot, and this combination resulted in her bumping my glass as I was holding it, the glass falling to the floor, and my beer going along for the trip, hence my two and a half, rather than three, beers being consumed.

Afterward, Lindsay stormed out the door and onto the street. Once out of the bar myself, she let's loose on the sidewalk..."you didn't support me once during the pool game! I was rooting for you and you were doing nothing but talking smack against me! And just look at you! You are so incredibly drunk! You had two beers and look at you! I drink and can hold my liquor, but you obviously can't! I have never seen this side of you before! You can forget dinner! Though I think you should get some food before you try driving home, because D.U.I.'s are not cool!"

Like the stupid man that I am, I apologized..."look Lindsay," I told her, "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to be talking 'smack' against you. We both know that I completely stink at pool, and I never thought that you'd take it so seriously...I would never do anything to put you down, and I'm sorry if you felt that way."

Naturally, this wasn't good enough. "No!", she told me, "you're completely drunk and I have never seen you this way before! How could you have dropped your beer! That never would have happened if you weren't all up in my face! You're always in my face!"

Which isn't completely untrue. Though, when you like someone, you tend to want to be near them...or, to quote her, 'in their face'.

She sped off in her car. I started off home, only to get a call from her a minute later. "Call me when you get home, because you are very drunk and I want to know you got there safe."

So I said sure, I'd call. By this time, the buzz I had was pretty well gone, and as for being 'very' drunk...well, actually, I was wishing that I was.

I got home fine and called to let her know. Naturally, she didn't pick up her phone...and all I could do was to simply shake my head at how fast things went downhill. I've always had the suspicion that she was a tad unstable...and this clearly didn't help change my mind.

Do I choose girls that I know will reject me because I'm subconsciously afraid of commitment? I really don't know. I never thought that I was afraid to commit, but to be honest, I don't really know about anything anymore.

Except for the fact, that I'm alone once again.