Friday, October 17, 2008

I went out for trash bags

I stopped at the Pig's Eye for a beer or two on my way home tonight and that pretty much evolved into a completely different experience than I was expecting. I sat down at the end of the inverted short end of the "L" bar, my typical seat, and ordered an IPA, perfectly set to listen to a few live Jethro Tull songs and drink a couple brewskis. The girl next to me started talking to me, a tourist from Virginia visiting friends. Name of Ricky. Perfectly feminine name I told her.

In the first 15 minutes I was there she told me she thought I was stuck-up, introverted, and that she had no intention of sleeping with me, but that she had no idea why I wouldn't talk to her. All without being asked mind you. I was offended (rightly) and left her to her girlfriends. A while later we started conversation again, as one Southerner to another. When I told her I was from the Atlanta area, she immediately responded, "But you're white!" I was immediately offended, which I think was a correct and good response. I took her to task for her insults and thought that was that.

But still, she kept at it and we started talking the night away. She came across as very insular and unexposed to anything outside of Richmond, Virginina, which she herself admitted. She was drinking wine (and seemed to have been for some time) and I was drinking PBRs. Before long she was resting her hand on my leg and getting close. Let me first mention that this girl was in fact 35. She wasn't hot by any means but she certainly wasn't unattractive and became more appealing as the night and the drinks progressed.

Eventually, after a bit of flirting (mostly by her) and such, she abandoned any conservative approach she had previously adopted and pretty much was all over me. She told me she hadn't been laid in more than a year due to a personal goal after a bad break-up. I commended her. She said that I didn't understand what she was going through. I assured her that I most certainly understood her plight and respected her position. She informed me that even though she thought I was too cynical and aloof, that I was hot and she wanted me to help her have a good vacation. If I remember correctly, she used phrases like "do things you've never imagined", "been waiting for a guy like you for months", and "12 or 13 hours."

My response was to politely beat around the bush and brush off this incredibly hard-to-brush-off attention. After all, in the past 6 months of match.com I've emailed roughly 50 girls and received emails from 2. I need all the attention I can get. I'm fucking drowning here. Eventually, she got the message and started a weird, philosophical, spiritual discussion about how I wasn't seizing my full potential and that I would be ready within 3 years to the day. I could tell she was extremely disappointed and unhappy with my nondecision. Gosh, if I could share with you the things she was saying to me. She started to unbutton my shirt right there in the bar!

Is there something wrong with me? Am I defective? How can a 26-year old loser whine so much about how he gets so little action or oppurtunity and then turn it away when it is sitting on the doorstep? Did I do the right thing? I mean, she was drunk, she was initially very insulting, and possibly very racist. She told me in no uncertain terms that she simply wanted me to fuck her, be completely emotionally unattached, and never see her again after tonight. That's like every male Homo sapiens dream right? I mean of all the Devens and Gabbys and nameless bar chicks I come across I always find a reason not to hook up with them. Am I being a good, moral, responsible person? Or am I simply just a huge pussy? I honestly don't know...all I know is that I am hating myself now and that I would have hated myself tomorrow morning if I had gone for it. It's all very hopeless and extremely despressing.

Morning After Update:
Waking up this morning, my thought was that I was completely right. I'm only disappointed in myself for not getting up and walking out after she made that racist comment about Atlanta. That woman was drunk, ignorant, and vulgar. Not only did she at multiple points pick up my beer and start drinking out of my glass, but she even gave it to her 52-year old Gorgon of a friend to let her drink through her nose. And then she got offended when I refused to take my beer back. I'm thankful I came out of that experience with only the $30 bar tab she left me after she someone skeezed her party's drinks on my bill. I'm embarrassed I put up with her as long as I did. No more tourists. Moving on.

THANKFULLY NOT ME

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Damn it Dunce Cap!! That fucking prostitute cost $300! I know she wasn't smoking hot, but she looked like your type and it could have been the beginning of a hot streak for you. You're paying me back you picky bastard.

Anonymous said...

"I mean of all the Devens and Gabbys and nameless bar chicks I come across I always find a reason not to hook up with them."

Um, isn't Gabby a dude? We may have just found the source of the problem

The Dunce Cap Marvel said...

haha....great comments.

And just to clear up, I once dated a Brazilian girl named Gabby (for Gabrielle) for about a month or so. She was pretty annoying, but in one of my shallower moments I cut it off with her when she cut off her hair for Locks For Love.