"In summary, this movie was bonkers. Good night!" The crowd cheered and clapped and I wiped my eyes. I'd been crying laughing all night. I was in LA for the first time and was thrilled when I learned that there was a live taping of my favorite podcast while I was in town. I immediately bought myself a ticket. I've been obsessed with How Did This Get Made for years and getting the chance to see it live in person was amazing. I wasn't brave enough to ask any questions but it was fun to join the crowd in chanting "Zouks" when my comedy crush Jason Mantzoukas walked out on stage. After the show was over, I stopped by the bar next door. I hopped on a stool and ordered a whiskey and ginger ale. The bartender was generous and filled it up to the top, nearly overflowing the small tumbler. Great value - difficult to manage. I attempted to gracefully lift it to my lips and sip a little off the top when BAM! Someone knocked into my shoulder and I spilled the drink all over myself. I gasped and looked down, realizing my shirt was now nearly translucent and the sticky drink had left a mark on my jeans that looked like I had wet myself. Great. I felt a warm hand on my back. "Oh man, I'm so sorry!" I recognized that voice immediately and looked up to a familiar head of curly hair and a concerned face. Jason Mantzoukas. My eyes widened and I blushed furiously. Seriously? This is how I meet him? Not when I'm cute and put together but when it looks like I've pissed my pants and I'm flustered as hell? Awesome. He grabbed some bar napkins and offered them to me, as I dabbed at my damp shirt. He apologized, "Jesus, I can't believe I did that. I got bumped and knocked into you. I'm sorry. What were you drinking?" I shook my head. "You don't have to do that." My face red, I looked down and started to ramble, "It's okay, I..." He cut me off. "Oh, you think I was going to buy you a drink? What if I was just asking a question? Geez, somebody over here is full of herself." That broke the tension and I laughed. He smiled and said, "No, please. It's the least I could do." "Whiskey and ginger ale. Thank you." "Good choice." He signaled the bartender. "2 whiskey and ginger ales, please." In the pause after he ordered our drinks and I continued to try and dry off my clothes with tiny cocktail napkins, I took a deep breath and told myself to not be a weirdo and talk to him. "I was just at the show - it was hilarious." He smiled warmly. "Ah, yeah, that was fun." He gestured to my wet clothes. "And you can go home and tell your friends that it was a SeaWorld splash zone type comedy show hybrid." I laughed. "Yeah, I didn't know it was like Gallagher, smashing watermelons... I should have worn a poncho. That's on me." He nodded. "Yes, everyone knows - How Did This Get Made is notoriously like a Gallagher show. Come on." Our drinks arrived. He held his glass up as if to toast so I did the same. "Cheers." Someone tapped his shoulder and he turned to talk to him. I sipped my drink and looked at my phone, desperately wanting to text the entire situation to my best friend but not wanting to be obvious. I was scrolling through Instagram when I felt a hand on my back again a minute later. He motioned to the empty stool next to me that he stood behind. "Am I blocking somebody's seat?" I shook my head no and saw my window of opportunity. I internally chanted Be brave! Be brave! "Nope, I'm flying solo tonight." I smiled and made eye contact. Let's do this. I'm going to flirt. "Do you want to enjoy these weak drinks together?" "So, yours is weak too? I can't even taste the whiskey." I nodded and joked, "I think he decided to cut us off for causing too much trouble over here."