Two Guys, a Girl, and a Really Bad Gaydar

7:56: I'm at a bar, waiting for a blind date. Match date, whatever. I'm not looking forward to it. The bar is pretty empty, save a guy on a barstool to my left talking to the bartender, who barely glances in my direction when I walk in.
8:02: I'm still at the bar, I've taken two careful sips of my drink (I'm trying to nurse it so I'm not on my third gin and tonic when he gets here.)
8:04: A big guffaw comes from the bar. Are they laughing at me? I lean to my left, pretending I have a sudden inner-ear infection as I strain to listen. They're talking about...a restaurant....in West Hollywood. Apparently, they make a killer pesto sauce. I furtively check him out. Very well dressed, smells like expensive cologne, beautiful italian leather shoes. His hair is coiffed to perfection, with a careful distribution of product. He and the bartender act like there's no one else in the room - was that a wink? OK, so they obviously have a thing for each other. How nice. I mindlessly slurp the last of my drink. Dammit. I interrupt the lovebirds and order another.
8:12: I'm just about to order my third drink when my date wallks in. I can tell it's him, because, a.) he's looking for someone, and b.) he looks like his pictures, except 30 pounds heavier and much older. Fuck.
8:13: I'm considering throwing myself over the bar and hiding among the CO2 tanks when he spots me. "Ariel?"
8:14: Polite, strained conversation ensues.
8:22: He's ordered a shot, and---wow, time for another. I got a real rock star on my hands.
8:26: He's invading my personal space. I casually move my stool to the left, closer to nicely-dressed gay guy. I overshoot and accidentally bump his stool. I turn and apologetically smile. He smiles back.
8:37: Match dude is really invading my personal space. He keeps making bad jokes and poking me with his stubby finger like a perverted uncle. I inch back, bumping elbows with gay guy. "Oh jeez, I'm sorry!" I apologize. "No worries." He smiles at me again. Wait, was that a wink? Nah, I must be getting drunk. Thank God.
8:52: Awright, I've had about enough of this. I casually turn away from stupidassmatch date and face the bar, eyes forward. I'm going to pay my bill and call it a night. Man, is he STILL talking about adultcon?
8:54: The bartender is ignoring me. Gay guy sees my plight. He squeezes my arm. "I'll call him over for you." Aww! "Thank you, you are an angel!" I affectionately squeeze his arm back. We're like old buds!
8:55: Ha ha, stupidassmatch date just dropped his drink. If that's not a sign I don't know what is. I don't even bother to help clean up, I'm waiting for the bartender to ring up my tab.
8:56: "You have a beautiful smile," Gay guy whispers in my ear. "Uh...thanks." What the hell?
8:56: Dumbassmatch date squeezes my knee. "So, wanna blow this taco stand and go somewhere else?" Ugh. I don't think so, chief. His hand's still on my knee. No, wait, it's my left knee, he's massaging my left knee--it's not match dude, it's--gay guy?!?!? Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck.
8:56: I am completely paralyzed. My brain has officially left the building.
?:??: I think my face is melting. I've got two hands on my two knees, the bartender seems to be calcuating his deductions for next year's taxes on my fucking bar tab, and all I can think is, "my Gaydar is BROKEN."