"I've Got to Go to More Book Signings!!"

A couple months ago, I found a hardcover book that I've been eyeballing on the bargain table at Davis-Kidd Bookstore. I started reading the book and fell in LOVE with it. It's a memoir, about a boy who somewhat grew up in his neighborhood bar, and I identify with so many things the author talks about... the daddy issues, struggling with alcohol, middle name shit, etc.

When I was almost halfway through with the book I noticed in the Nashville Scene magazine that the author would be doing a book signing at Davis Kidd bookstore at 6 pm on a day my girlfriends had been planning to do a big Girls Night Out (GNO).

We all usually do this every few months. All the girls who work at the Brouhaha get the same night off and we go for sushi, dress up in our best Saturday night dresses (big difference from Sunday dresses, you know?) and go out and break hearts. But I really wanted to go to the book signing, so I just got ready, and waltzed into this very proper book store looking like an expensive hooker. Three and a half inch heels, a dress that left very little to the imagination, and glaring florescent lighting, while a Pulitzer prize winning writer reads from his memoir. Sweet.

I get in line to get my book signed, and I was amazed at how HANDSOME this man is. Words I would use to describe: dashing, handsome, dapper, and pulchritudinous. (Thanks, thesaurus.com). He's not necessarily tall, but dark eyes, dark hair, early 40's... he writes for the LA Times... he SO has the Clark Kent thing going on. He's charming and talking to everyone at the signing, and spending some time with each person. So I decide to get in the back of the line.

When it's finally my turn, we chit chat, I tell him I'm a bartender, his book really hits home with me, blah blah blah. He writes his email address in my book and follows it with "Email me when you're done with the book. I'd love to hear what you think. Promise?" I tell you, that dress is trouble.

As I exit the building, I call Momma to let her know I'm on my way, and tell her I got his email address. She answered with "Shocker" and said I should have invited him out for drinks. Damn it, I should have.

So in the ballsy-est move I've ever done, as I'm driving to meet the girls, I call the bookstore and ask the clerk who answered the phone to leave a message for the author doing the book signing: "Grace The Bartender will be at Virago if you care to join her for drinks."

I felt like such a vixen! But I didn't really think the minimum wage workin' clerk would actually give the message to him. But it's still a nice story and my girlfriends were all impressed when I told them what I had done.

So we were all meeting up at the Brouhaha before heading over to Virago cause our reservations were at 8. When we finally got to that fantastic Sushi haven, we waited at the hostess stand for our table. I tell the girls I'm just going to peek around the bar, in case he actually got the message. At the end of the bar sat Pulitzer Prize Winning Author. Holy shit. I go say hello, surprised that he got my message and came down, then excused myself to go find the girls and tell them. I walk away as cooly as possible, cause I can feel him looking at me as I go (The Dress had an open back...), and as I turn the corner out of his sight, I tear up to the hostess stand like a kid who just got her first glimpse of the presents under the Christmas tree. The girls give me permission to leave GNO and I return to him at the bar.

We have drinks and get waaaay too much sushi and have fantastic conversation. He is charming, but at the same time, a little socially inept and shy. It's quite endearing. After dinner, we decide to leave the way too crowded bar and go get coffee (good thing I have a virtual Zagats in my mind when someone comes up with an idea, I always know where to go) at this little 24 hour coffee shop around the corner. We sit and chat for several hours. I ask him if it's wierd that, since I've read his memoir, I already know about some of the most significant parts of his childhood. Such as the time he lost his virginity.

By now, it's getting late and he has a 5 am flight, so I drive him to his hotel. We sit in my car, exchange phone numbers, awkward end-of-night first date kind of behavior. He extends his hand. I shake it. Have a good flight. Good bye. That's it. Can you believe it??

As I drive off to meet up with girls to finish off girls night, my phone rings. It's Pulitzer. He says to me "I can't believe you didn't kiss me goodbye." I told him that was his move to make, and that I was the one who went out on the limb asking him out. He said he didn't want to be too forward. As we have this coy, flirtatious conversation on the phone, I decide that I really did want to kiss him and turned around. I finally said "Well, if you come outside, I'll let you kiss me."
He came outside. We kissed next to my car for almost a half hour. I don't think he does this often. He was very very tentative with the whole kissing thing. I've kissed some boys in my day, I can tell when they "do this for a living" and when they ain't so experienced. At one point, I broke off the kiss and exclaimed "I've got to go to more book signings!"

We finally said good bye again, he turned and went inside.

"Choose Your Own Adventure":
-Grace gets back in her car and drives off into the proverbial sunset, turn to page 81.
-Grace gives her keys to the valet and follows Pulitzer into the hotel, turn to page 69....