Tags
bar scene, bars, dating, drinking, drunk people, love, men, relationships, women
I can’t express enough how much I hate it when people don’t listen to me. It’s not that I’m a control freak, but I was once a quiet, shy girl who was always accused of ‘mumbling’. So whenever I would say something I would be met with the all too familiar “WHAT?!” ….”Say that again?!” ERRRRRR!!!!!! In my world, I like to believe that everyone is deaf, and if I started to raise my voice I would be the crazy lady who hollered all the time. Clearly, they were the problem, not me.
So, when I meet this guy who seems like a well put together guy: Sweater over a button down, clean pants (he was a winner in my book). I couldn’t help but notice his slurred speech, and flailing arms waving about. He was clearly drunk, but since I wasn’t having my pick of the litter lately, I went with it (beggars can’t be choosers). So we talked for a little bit, and he kept telling me how his aunt could get me a job as a Legal Secretary at a very busy law firm in Midtown. Okay, guy, I got it! Your aunt has pull. I just left a job in the city for a job in Brooklyn, I don’t plan on returning to the morning rush hour commutes and pushy passengers anytime soon.
After talking about his aunt for 15 minutes, I thought I would turn the conversation around to him, or better yet, me. So I told him that I am happy with my job (lay off it already, I’m not switching jobs twice in one year), and he was an ex-hockey player from California who did something (my memory is a bit shotty) out in the city. All he kept saying, besides the fact that my little job in Brooklyn wasn’t good enough apparently, was that he was “Goin’ take ME on a DATE”.
He was cute and plastered (just my type), but he was the only guy I’ve met thus far who even mentioned a date, so I went with it. While we were talking, my sister told me that she wanted to go, so I gave Mr. Drunkard my number, and told him to call. He didn’t want me to leave (maybe because drunk people don’t like to be left alone?), and then asked for a kiss. Okay, let’s get one thing straight: I do not kiss people I just met (If I am not as drunk as you are, it’s not happening –I am still in my 20’s so this is acceptable behavior). So I told him, “We’ll see what happens on our date”, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and left.
I was impressed with myself. I did it! I went out and talked to a cute guy (albeit, a drunk guy) but a guy nonetheless, and finally landed a date! We exchanged numbers and the next day, he text me this:
“Weird question, but who is this? u were at gaslight?”
The night was clearly a success judging by the fact that my Romeo couldn’t even remember who he spoke to, let alone remember that we had a goddamn date! Needless to say folks, the date never happened and he we never spoke again. I might call him about that job with his aunt in the big fancy Law Firm in the City, though.
Lesson learned? Confirm that goddamn date!!! And make sure the drunk bastard is listening, and paying attention.
XOXO
ShoesOverBooze