Stories From the Bar

A couple weeks ago I went out to the bar with a new friend. It is the first time I have been out with her, and the first time I’ve been out for a girls night in nearly 3 years. (Back story: I just bought a house where Dad grew up so I’m familiar with the area and know most of the big bars/hangouts of the area, but have rarely been to any as I was either a minor or pregnant when I’ve been in the area before).

I want to share a story from the night because I’m still chuckling over it after over a week. 

My friend, Lucy, gave me the look. The look every woman has given her friends while out that screams “THIS ASSHOLE WON’T LEAVE ME ALONE”. I tend to be the savior when I’m out with people. It must be that my resting bitch face makes me the natural one to scare away the creeps. It could be my introverted self being highly uncomfortable with being OUT so scaring off the creeps gives me a purpose in a situation that I’m uncomfortable in. I don’t know. Anyways, I am always the savior. Lucy has given me the signal while she waited for the super attractive bartender to make our drinks I walk over to her and stand to her left. I’ve placed myself squarely between her and a stranger. Sure enough, the man easily has fifteen years on us, and a healing cut on his forehead and nose. This guy was already well into the drink at this point. 

“Bah-yyyeee,” I say to him as he greets me with some crooked smile. I am doing my best imitation of my 18 month daughter. 

“What? Why do you have to be like that,” Creep stutters.

“Bah-yyyeee,” I say again with by best smile.

Creep stutters something again and I now wave as I say bye again.

I watch him go as Lucy thanks me for running off Creep. Once we have our drinks we decide to head out for a quick smoke. We somehow get into a conversation with people out on the patio and before we know it Creep is back. 

I move to between Lucy and Creep. Creep walks up to me with some cliché line that I have already forgotten. I simply say, “Bah-yyyeee.”

“Why do you have to be like that,” He says yet again. 

I have to laugh now, “You’re already so drunk that you don’t remember coming up to us already not ten minutes ago. Get gone, man.”

I get a chorus of agreement from Lucy and the group we joined on the patio. Dejectedly, Creep sulks off to find some other victim. 

The night goes on and Lucy and I have a good time. We eventually went back into the bar inside that had the most attractive bartender to indulge in some harmless flirting. Well, mostly her as I have no fucking clue how to flirt, but he sure was nice on the eyes. 

Creep comes back up to the bar and us for a THIRD time. This fucking guy. But at least I made an impression.

“Hey, oh God, it’s you,” Creep says.

I give the nicest smile I can muster and agree, “It is me.”

“You are a mean person,” Creep declares then turns to the bartender to order a drink.

“I am not,” I say with mock hurt.

“Yes, you are a mean person,” he repeats, “I bet you don’t have anyone because you are so mean.”

“I’m married,” I reply.

“I bet you’re awful to your husband,” he insists.

“I am not. I suck his dick every day.” I reply.

“No you don’t, I bet you punch him every day.”

I laugh, “Well yes that is true, but at least I still suck his dick.”

The bartender at this point rushes getting Creep his drink as it is becoming apparent that Lucy is about to beat the shit out of Creep if he isn’t gone sooner rather than later. 

 

Seriously, why do men turn into disgusting douche bags at the bar? He was not the only creep that we encountered that night. I just don’t understand it. No means no.