How to Never, Ever Get Laid
Last November, my friend Joe was in town for business and I took him to a bar in Scottsdale. For those of you that may not know, Scottsdale is pretty much Barbietown. The bar I took him to is especially beloved by the most annoying, fake blonde, fake tan, identical girls and the most annoying, baseball cap and flipflip wearing fratboys you can imagine. Joe is one of the crassest people I know, and then there's me, who is anything but a blonde barbie. Scene set.
We were sitting outside pounding back drinks and enjoying some delightful chips and salsa, and of course halfway through my first drink I had to pee. I made my way inside, and when I came out of the bathroom there was a guy standing and waiting for me. He was about my height, dark blonde with a goatee, navy blue cableknit sweater and pleated khakis. All in all think of Chandler Bing circa 2000. He came towards me and said, "Hi, my name is Dave... I know this is really forward but is that guy out there your boyfriend?" I told him no, but that I did have a boyfriend at home. He said, "Oh, ok, well thanks for your time, and you should know that you're really beautiful".
Ok, great, thanks, always nice to hear that, right? I rejoined Joe and forgot about it. But owing to my marble-sized bladder, I was back at the bathroom in no time, only to find Dave waiting for me again. "I'm sorry... I know you have a boyfriend, but couldn't we go out to lunch sometime? There's no harm in lunch, right? No strings, I'd just like to get to know you". I said, "thank you, but I'd better get back out to my friend".
After that, I just decided to hold off on the bathroom trips, but jackass Joe had to go next. He predicted that I'd get jumped by Dave the second he left our table, and sure enough, Dave pounced almost as soon as Joe turned his back. This time he was prepared with a note.
We were sitting outside pounding back drinks and enjoying some delightful chips and salsa, and of course halfway through my first drink I had to pee. I made my way inside, and when I came out of the bathroom there was a guy standing and waiting for me. He was about my height, dark blonde with a goatee, navy blue cableknit sweater and pleated khakis. All in all think of Chandler Bing circa 2000. He came towards me and said, "Hi, my name is Dave... I know this is really forward but is that guy out there your boyfriend?" I told him no, but that I did have a boyfriend at home. He said, "Oh, ok, well thanks for your time, and you should know that you're really beautiful".
Ok, great, thanks, always nice to hear that, right? I rejoined Joe and forgot about it. But owing to my marble-sized bladder, I was back at the bathroom in no time, only to find Dave waiting for me again. "I'm sorry... I know you have a boyfriend, but couldn't we go out to lunch sometime? There's no harm in lunch, right? No strings, I'd just like to get to know you". I said, "thank you, but I'd better get back out to my friend".
After that, I just decided to hold off on the bathroom trips, but jackass Joe had to go next. He predicted that I'd get jumped by Dave the second he left our table, and sure enough, Dave pounced almost as soon as Joe turned his back. This time he was prepared with a note.
Joe was nice enough to come back quickly, and proceeded to stare daggers at him until he finally left our table. We left shortly after that, and needless to say, I never called Dave for dinner. Sometimes I wonder, though.... do you think maybe he printed up like 20 of those notes every night before he went out?
posted by The Noillyprat Cat @ 12:00 PM
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