That time I used trivia to get a date

Somehow, right around the end of the fall soccer season, Sunday trivia became a thing. We weren't very good and our team size fluctuated from as few as three people to as many as ten. And we still weren't that good. 

But the bar was two blocks from my house, they had Great Lakes Elliot Ness on tap, and the trivia guy was damn cute. 

After about two months of nearly religious attendance, and still never placing higher than third place (with only first and second place earning the coveted $40 and $20 bar tabs respectively), we showed up for the last Sunday before the two week holiday break. I don't know if people weren't trying as hard that week, or if their minds were full more exciting things, but we were there to play.

I was particularly enjoying the company of a gay friend of mine who spent the evening discussing with me the excellent bone structure and jaw shape (among other things) of our most handsome trivia host. 

It became a game: which of us got to take him our answer sheets? We fought over the privilege - all in good fun, of course. But there was no denying the big smile I was greeted with each time it was my turn. To my friend' disappointment, the cute trivia guys batted for my team. 

At the end of the evening, the scores were tallied and put of seven teams, we placed second (despite being in first place for the better part of the night.) But it was still early and no one wanted to head home just yet. Instead, we did what everyone would do at the end of the night at the neighborhood bar -- we started making paper airplanes and throwing them at people. Obviously. 

I tossed mine at the cute trivia boy, in case he wasn't complete convinced that I was into him. In good humor, he joined us in our creative endeavor and pulled up a chair to our table. 

We chatted, learned that his name is Sean, and when it was finally late enough, we assured Sean that we would be back after the holidays, then said our goodbyes, $20 bar tab of victory in hand (but no phone numbers exchanged.)

Over the holidays, I didn't give it much thought. He hasn't asked for my number. Maybe he was just being friendly. But it didn't matter, I was there for the trivia!

And when we got back, I got the weekly call to action. "Trivia 2015. Whose in?"

Heck yeah, I was in. We had a $20 head start on our drinks. There was no passing that up. 

When we got there, the only seats were as far from the bar as you could get, to my dismay. But when the cute trivia guy walked in, he nodded to us and smiled. Clearly we had made an impression. 

The team was slim this week, only four of us, but still the core group and the same people who had been there the last time to witness to my shameless flirting. And they weren't about to let me off the hook. 

Our unofficial team captain suggested our team name for the week:

"Sean, can I have your phone number?"

Of which he had to read out after each round to announce the scores. 

After the first round, I went to turn in the scores and rushed quickly away before he could read the team name. 

"And finally," he said, announcing the first round scores, "with my favorite team name ever, we have 'Sean, can I have your number?' with 38 points. And the answer is yes."

We cheered. First place so far! And I'm pretty sure I turned bright red, knowing that I had to hand in the rest of the score sheets for the night. 

When we turned in round two, he stopped me, and grinned. 

"Whose asking? You?"

This was my moment! And being the smooth operator I am, I gawked, open-mouthed, stared at him and backed away slowly...before turning and running back to my team. 

Well fuck, I blew that. 

But I had noticed people leaving a table closer to the bar so we swiftly gathered our things and the team rushed to claim the seats. Now I was in the direct line of sight of the cute trivia boy. 

In the next round, I was determined to salvage my enormous fuck up. I walked up with our score sheet and smiled, 

"Sorry about that, I just got really excited about trivia. Yes, the number is for me."

He laughed. "Good. That's what I was hoping."

I sauntered back to my seat. Moment salvaged. 

When I went to take the next round's answer sheet up, he took the paper and handed me a tiny folded card back.  "I'll take that, and this is for you." He grinned. "I'll need your number now too," he said. 

I smiled and went back to my table. The team celebrated not-so-quietly as I scribbled my own number at the bottom of the next answer sheet. 

When announcing the scores, cute trivia boy took to calling us "his friends in the corner" rather than by our team name. Embarrassed, perhaps?

When I took up the final round's answer sheet, he saw the number and grinned, but stopped me. "I need your name!" He said. Oops. Forgot that detail. I scribbled it down for him quickly, and then introduced myself. 

"Good name," he said. "It's nice to meet you." We shook hands with mock formality and he said he'd shoot me a text later that night. 

Our team only got third place that night (out of like, four teams) but that meant 20% off the next round of drinks, and whose gonna argue with a prize like that? 

But who cares who got what place? I think we all know who the winner was that night.