Last night, I went to The Melting Pot for happy hour with some girlfriends. While we were drinking our martinis and eating our cheese (mmmm...cheese!), we noticed this dashingly dressed man, complete with a Justin Timberlake hat, making the rounds to the various bars located on the square.
He was clearly looking for something specific. We noticed him walk in and out of a couple of different bars before settling on The Melting Pot. He sat down at a table with a group of six women and began chatting with them. I had originally assumed that he was looking for these women in particular, like he was supposed to meet them, but couldn't remember which bar they were going to patronize.
However, it soon because clear that he had decided that these women represented his best opportunity for the evening. One of the women I was dining with decided that this was akin to having our very own dating reality-TV show, and that she wanted to be the host. She then began providing us with background commentary on this man's antics. At some point in the evening, when this table of six had dwindled to three, our entertainment, LL Cool J, decided that it was time for him to move on.
About 20 minutes later, we noticed our friend, in a different shirt, but still with the Justin Timberlake hat, enter a different bar on the square. As we were already paying the check, we felt compelled to follow him in and have another drink.
We watched him place himself at the end of the bar and lean back casually. There were two empty seats between him and a woman. He seemed relaxed and chatted cheerfully with the bartenders. Then he made his first move: he asked the woman a question and moved a seat closer, so he could lean in and better hear her answer. Then, somehow, dessert materialized in front of them, and he moved a seat closer to the woman. Now there was no empty seat between them.
Our commentator continued her narration as the events continued to unfold: our LL Cool J spoon feeding this apparently contented woman.
Unfortunately, we became distracted as our waitress plied us with raffle tickets with the proceeds going to the Susan G Komen fund, and when we had finished purchasing said raffle tickets, the dessert was still at the bar, half eaten, with two long-handled spoons in the dish, but LL Cool J and his lucky woman were gone.
Congratulations, LL Cool J, and your suave flirtations. We tip our JT hats to you and thank you for providing us with bar style amusement the likes of which we rarely get to witness.