I realize its been a month since I've written but alas here I am. I will admit I stopped momentarily because of some negative feedback from a few douchers but I got over it and here I am. Much like my family has dealt with me, I cant allow some morons to make me stop doing what I enjoy. Anyhoot, I want to discuss the ever important topic of getting a hint.
I think its quite sad that a girl cant go out for a drink these days without being hit on by some sort of creature. Man, woman or human has yet to be determined. I ventured out recently to simply enjoy my Coors Light, because really after a few days without mama gets cranky. I wear my best baggy jeans, tank top, flip flops, muffin top and a hoodie that says "Drink Up Bitches". Clearly I'm looking to land Mr.Right. I'm also sporting my Coach version of my Alan satchel and my hair is in a messy birds nest. Straight sexy. I go to my Cheer's watering hole order my beer and sit back. The bar is pretty much empty and I prefer it that way. Being a weeknight and all I assume I'm safe from all male attacks. I look through the paper as any girl would in a bar and sit like a man with my legs half open to let the balls breathe.
I chit chat and bullshit with the other two patrons in the bar and amid my comments involving the words Cock, Fucker and Giants, I seem to have made a fan. This one dude, who is dressed to disco all night, decides it is wise to try and flirt with me. As if my belching and complete disregard for anything he said wasn't a turn off enough, he decides to now move his location to one directly next to me. Awesome. Just what I wanted to be bothered by someone I have no interest in speaking to on a sober basis.
This gentleperson, as I will call him, assuming I'm Italian asks me all sorts of questions about my cooking skills. Can I make pasta? No. Can I make sausage? No. Can I make sauce? No. Can I care less about this conversation and really need a shot? Yes. I decide to end the suffering by telling him I'm Puerto Rican, which I have learned can be quite the disappointment in my neighborhood. Hoping to receive the response of "Oh wow really? (Insert sad face)" I was received with a "Mmm my weakness". I immediately think, Fuck. Now I have to move on the bigger guns. He then says "You look Italian though". So of course my response is "I'm the whitest Spanish man you will ever meet in your life". Zing. Boom....Or so I thought.
Before he leaves, and moments before I was ready to take my drink in a to go cup, he asks for my number. Which of course I wanted to respond with, I only communicate through homing pigeons, I responded with a "I'm seeing someone I can't". Now let me ask, if a girl who you want to speak to doesn't a-make eye contact...b-ignores you...c-belches like a man...d-talks about how she loves home depot and most importantly e-dressed like she didn't give a fuck, why oh why would you still think its open game?? Aside from yelling Hi I'm a possible Coors Light dependant and I can't talk because my blood stream needs to absorb this wonderfulness to bring me back to a tolerable stage, what else could I have done to make myself less appealing??
I would think all the hints I so clearly threw out there would have been picked up on but no. If I don't smile its not because I'm mad, its because faking a smile takes way too much effort on my part and the only thing my lips want to do is make out with my beer bottle. I'm not upset or cranky from anything that occurred earlier in the night, its because you my gentleperson, are annoying me and I can't find an appropriate exit. If I'm dressed like I don't care its because I don't. If I tell you I like to do manly things and act like a construction worker it's because I'm trying to disgust you. If I follow up a belch with a "Ohhh yeah good one" instead of a "Opps excuse me", I'm clearly trying to make myself as unattractive as humanly possible. If all of this does not register into a "Wow shes gross" then I can't help you sir. And if you are still wanting to ask for my number then you need professional help or a prostitute.
Sometimes girls just want to go out and enjoy a drink without having to do our hair or put on make-up. Sometimes we just want to sit back and relax and talk with friends. Newsflash, it isn't always about meeting a guy or hooking up. Sometimes mama had a bad day and needs a lil Coors Light loving without you eye fucking me every five minutes.
Moral of my story, get a hint bro. Buy a vowel, pass go and find the nearest exit. Do whatever you need to do to let it register that No I don't want a shot, No I don't care to see you with your shirt off, No I don't need to you to buy my beer. If I have ignored 90% of anything to come out of your mouth, done everything but scratch my balls, then understand that I am not interested. Unless your family owns a beer distributing company or your family business involves Vodka, have a goodnight and move on.
Ahh well now that I have let that out, I will bid you adieu. Buenos Noches Bitches.
