FanPost

Frank Martin is the Hot Chick at the Bar

Oh you see her. Hell, the whole bar sees her. They steal glances, talk about her, some even stare but there she sits. She chats with the two girls she came with, one is cute and would normally be one of the best looking in the place but is kind of plain sitting at that table. One is fat, and usually loud. Guys start daring each other to hit on her and after gallons of liquid courage have been consumed, only then do guys start talking to her.

This was my night at my son's soccer practice.

I was in charge of juice boxes tonight and given it was only the second practice of the season we really haven't even looked the roster over yet. So I was surprised to find Frank walking up. He was in charge of water. We exchanged pleasantries, made sure neither drove a minivan and staked our separate claims on the sidelines.

That's when I noticed it. Frank's the hot girl. I was not the loud fat one.

I understand people wanting to respect his private everyday life and not bother him, but people were flat-out avoiding him. They whispered. They stared. They tried to figure out which kid was his. No one talked to him.

If you know me at all, which ok you don't except for TB who has actually met me once but if you did, you would know that I don't have that part of the brain that makes a person star struck. At all. I was the guy that would spot the hot girl when I walked in and beelined it over to just talk to her. Not hit on her, just talk because no one else there would. No, I'm not that dumb and innocent. It was a sound strategy. Much better than a wingman jumping on the grenade or trying the "if your nice to the fat one she'll think your sweet" failure. Yeah that's original. And frankly the fat one knows what you're doing and it makes her feel like shit. My favorite was chatting up the hot girl to get the cute friend. Somehow the cute girl's brain lies to herself that I must think she's the hot girl and that I chatted up the plain one to get to her. Sigh. Let's just say I did ok in college.

So I sauntered over to Frank and chatted about everything but basketball. I couldn't help myself though and said something to the effect of, "So I hear you spent some time in Wichita lately, atta boy". He laughed and so did the dad on the other side of me. He was dressed in KU warm ups, KU sweatshirt, KU hat. It was his feeling that the kid from Heights would probably go to Kentucky. Some good natured ribbing ensued about how he could admit that seeing how he was dressed. To which I had to ask, "When did you graduate from KU"? He didn't. Hoo boy. I would have lied.

It was brief (5 min?) but really fun. I felt bad for Frank. I was the only person to talk with him other than a hi or a wave and a nod. That's got to be tough. So if you see Frank around town do more than say hi, actually talk with him. Don't talk basketball. Talk Frank. It's ok to respect his personal life but I'd hate for him to ever leave KSU and think that we weren't the friendly community that we are.

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