I went out last Friday night to hear some live surf music at Slim's Last Chance (the same venue from the Leopard Dress post). It was a last minute thing and I felt too blob-like to wear my leopard dress so I wore regular clothes: my favorite faded-and-ready-for-the-donation-bin-but-at-least-it-fits black skirt, a blouse, and flip flops. I forgot my flask, so I ordered a Sailor Jerry and diet coke. For $6.50 I got the tiniest plastic cup ever filled to the rim with ice, a jigger of Sailor Jerry, and a dash of diet coke. Seriously, it was just a tad bigger than a bathroom-size Dixie cup. For $6.50. What a gyp. All the tables and chairs were occupied, but there were two empty stools are the bar. One each for me and my invisible friend; if I had an invisible friend his name would be Augie.
I asked the man to my left if the bar stools were taken. Nope. I promptly planted myself on the stool next to him and sipped my tiny drink. Then he chatted me up. His name was John; he's a regular there. John introduced me to the bartenders and some of his friends who were also regulars. Was I in an episode of Cheers? Did everyone know everyone else's names? John and his friend Mike were pretty lit - or at least they accused each other of being lit but I wouldn't know the difference because this was our first meeting. When he'd point out a person he knew, John kept referring to them as "good people." He's good people. She's good people. Never mind the grammatical error in his speech (or perhaps he can't count), but I'd have been surprised if he said "he's a fucking asshole but I love hanging out with him because he trips people who are blind and beats up puppy dogs." Who would say that? His opinion of his friends and acquaintances was like an eulogy on a feedback loop: good people, good people, good people. By the way, there was a hot man with an amputated leg at the show. He was wearing a shirt with a logo for the armed forces amputee games. At first I thought it was a spoof (like the S & M Hello Kitty shirt my friend has) but then I saw his prosthetic leg and realized he probably participated in the amputee games. How hot is that?
Anyway, John was surprised that I was there to hear music rather than eat chili. To each their own, dude. I was getting bored with the conversation but I blew my conversation exit when the opportunity arose: John apologized for monopolizing my time because he was certain that my husband or boyfriend would be joining me any minute. Nice fishing expedition, buddy. I laughed and explained that I had neither a boyfriend nor a husband. He was surprised and asked why. I replied "because I apparently have difficulty identifying good people." I figured he'd understand my "good people" comment. Then he said "you're in your 20s so you have plenty of time." Yeah, multiply that by two dude. When I told him I was 42 he said "I bet you've been married four times and have a litter of children." Wow - nothing more sexy than cynicism with an air of defeat. I corrected his inaccurate assumption: I've been married twice and have no children. He congratulated me for a job well done. According to him, my not having children was the best thing ever. Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, no. Thankfully the music started and I thought that would silence him. Wrong. I became annoyed. First, I was there to hear the music. Second, I couldn't hear what he was saying and I'm sure whatever he said ended in "good people" anyway. And third, I wasn't interested in this guy. He's a single-serving companion I met at a bar and whom I had no interest in seeing again. Now if I found him attractive or was drawn to him in someway - like the man with the amputated leg - that would have been a different story.
I finally told John that I couldn't hear him and that I wanted to listen to the music anyway, so he tried his best to remain silent until the break. Banzai Surf was great. We chatted a bit during the break, and then towards the end of Aloha Screwdriver's set his friend Mike told me that John was shy and that I would have to be the aggressor in the relationship. Um, what relationship? Then he said that if John didn't get my number, John was an idiot. Was getting my number the only thing that would prevent John from being labeled an idiot? I didn't know him well enough to decide either way. Then I overheard Mike telling John that he better get my number because "she obviously likes you because she sat next to you and talked to you." Wow...that's some deductive reasoning if I ever heard some. Did Mike take into account that the stool on which I sat was one of two seats left in place? Had I sat in the seat further away from John, I would have had beer taps in my face and a guys back at my side. Damn man-logic. Perhaps men would be smarter if they consulted with women before making judgments and assumptions? I'm sure this is true for women too. In any case, Mike teased John about getting my number. Apparently there was a consensus among John's friends about it, because after the music ended I announced I was leaving and John said "all my friends said I should get your number." Wow. Lame pick up line if I ever heard one. If I wasn't already disinterested, asking for my number in such a passive way solidified my disinterest. I explained that I wasn't interested in dating but I gave him my number anyway but he's too shy to call. I wonder what he would say if he does call? "Hi, my friends said I should call you." Think for yourself, man. Sigh. It's amazing the snap judgments we make when we meet people. Even though I remind myself that first impressions aren't everything, they're something. Sometimes you just have to follow your gut's advice. Any my gut's advice says to enjoy the night for what it was, lame pick-up line and all.
I asked the man to my left if the bar stools were taken. Nope. I promptly planted myself on the stool next to him and sipped my tiny drink. Then he chatted me up. His name was John; he's a regular there. John introduced me to the bartenders and some of his friends who were also regulars. Was I in an episode of Cheers? Did everyone know everyone else's names? John and his friend Mike were pretty lit - or at least they accused each other of being lit but I wouldn't know the difference because this was our first meeting. When he'd point out a person he knew, John kept referring to them as "good people." He's good people. She's good people. Never mind the grammatical error in his speech (or perhaps he can't count), but I'd have been surprised if he said "he's a fucking asshole but I love hanging out with him because he trips people who are blind and beats up puppy dogs." Who would say that? His opinion of his friends and acquaintances was like an eulogy on a feedback loop: good people, good people, good people. By the way, there was a hot man with an amputated leg at the show. He was wearing a shirt with a logo for the armed forces amputee games. At first I thought it was a spoof (like the S & M Hello Kitty shirt my friend has) but then I saw his prosthetic leg and realized he probably participated in the amputee games. How hot is that?
Anyway, John was surprised that I was there to hear music rather than eat chili. To each their own, dude. I was getting bored with the conversation but I blew my conversation exit when the opportunity arose: John apologized for monopolizing my time because he was certain that my husband or boyfriend would be joining me any minute. Nice fishing expedition, buddy. I laughed and explained that I had neither a boyfriend nor a husband. He was surprised and asked why. I replied "because I apparently have difficulty identifying good people." I figured he'd understand my "good people" comment. Then he said "you're in your 20s so you have plenty of time." Yeah, multiply that by two dude. When I told him I was 42 he said "I bet you've been married four times and have a litter of children." Wow - nothing more sexy than cynicism with an air of defeat. I corrected his inaccurate assumption: I've been married twice and have no children. He congratulated me for a job well done. According to him, my not having children was the best thing ever. Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, no. Thankfully the music started and I thought that would silence him. Wrong. I became annoyed. First, I was there to hear the music. Second, I couldn't hear what he was saying and I'm sure whatever he said ended in "good people" anyway. And third, I wasn't interested in this guy. He's a single-serving companion I met at a bar and whom I had no interest in seeing again. Now if I found him attractive or was drawn to him in someway - like the man with the amputated leg - that would have been a different story.
I finally told John that I couldn't hear him and that I wanted to listen to the music anyway, so he tried his best to remain silent until the break. Banzai Surf was great. We chatted a bit during the break, and then towards the end of Aloha Screwdriver's set his friend Mike told me that John was shy and that I would have to be the aggressor in the relationship. Um, what relationship? Then he said that if John didn't get my number, John was an idiot. Was getting my number the only thing that would prevent John from being labeled an idiot? I didn't know him well enough to decide either way. Then I overheard Mike telling John that he better get my number because "she obviously likes you because she sat next to you and talked to you." Wow...that's some deductive reasoning if I ever heard some. Did Mike take into account that the stool on which I sat was one of two seats left in place? Had I sat in the seat further away from John, I would have had beer taps in my face and a guys back at my side. Damn man-logic. Perhaps men would be smarter if they consulted with women before making judgments and assumptions? I'm sure this is true for women too. In any case, Mike teased John about getting my number. Apparently there was a consensus among John's friends about it, because after the music ended I announced I was leaving and John said "all my friends said I should get your number." Wow. Lame pick up line if I ever heard one. If I wasn't already disinterested, asking for my number in such a passive way solidified my disinterest. I explained that I wasn't interested in dating but I gave him my number anyway but he's too shy to call. I wonder what he would say if he does call? "Hi, my friends said I should call you." Think for yourself, man. Sigh. It's amazing the snap judgments we make when we meet people. Even though I remind myself that first impressions aren't everything, they're something. Sometimes you just have to follow your gut's advice. Any my gut's advice says to enjoy the night for what it was, lame pick-up line and all.
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