THE SETTING: My friends' daughter's birthday party in mid-October.
THE CHARACTERS: The little girl's parents (my friends), paternal grandparents, paternal aunt and me. The little girl's maternal uncle arrives late (after flying in from out of town) and is dropped off from the airport by his married friend, Airport Ride. (Read: I'm clearly not hitting on the married friend in the scene outlined below.) Airport Ride (AR, below) seems very nice. I immediately know he's "good people."
ME: "So, do you have any single friends, AR?" (asked after I literally talked to him for four minutes... but long enough to judge his character and get a good vibe)
AR: "Hmmm. I don't know."
ME: "That doesn't do me any good." (Sidenote: I was drinking something called Ryan's Cream at the time of this conversation. Which really doesn't add much to the story other than alerting you all to the fact that there's a Bailey's-esque liquor called Ryan's Cream. Which apparently gives me balls of steel.)
AR: "Wait! I do know a guy. He's really funny. But he's (pregnant pause)... a redhead..."
ME: "So what?! I don't care about that."
AR: "... but he keeps his hair really short."
ME: "OK, AR. Well, I'm going to give you my card, and you tell your friend to call or email me if he wants."
I mean, seriously. Who DOES this?!? I knew the guy for less than a commercial break and I'm already asking him to fix me up.
But guess what? The friend emailed me. And he's really effing funny.
So I guess the title of this post is true. It does never hurt to ask. (Even if you look like a friggin' loon in the process.)