Best Wingman Ever?

It was crowded. Loud. Late/early. And I’d had my limit. Almost.

I wasn’t really scanning the place anymore. I figured my highlight of the night occurred when a beyond drunk bride-to-be kissed me without warning, bringing her bachelorette party to an abrupt end.

I was content to hang back and watch the remainder of the evening unfold—desperate pickup lines in exciting darkness, sweaty faces trying to retain the preparation of hours ago, squirming while trying to look cool in the line for the restroom.

A guy approached. Unusual.

“Hi. I’m Marcus,” he said as he extended his hand.

I shook his hand and returned the introduction. Warily.

“I don’t usually do this…”

No offense, but don’t start now.


Dude, no.

“See that girl over there?”

Wait. What?

I immediately looked in the direction of his outstretched finger. Obviously. I nodded.

“She wants to meet you.”

I’ve never met anyone so happy to be the link between his friend and a complete stranger, neither of whom seemed to have any game. And he was awesome at it.

I just wish I knew what finally led him to do what he did. I mean, was it a Hallmark moment where he was all like, “These two need to meet,” or did he flip the script and go all Someecard on her?

I’ve wondered from time to time what happened to Marcus, where his obvious skills have taken him in his life. Whatever the case might be, he cemented his legacy with me.

Best wingman ever? No question.

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