Ok, it’s time for another of my “I JUST DON’T GET WOMEN” stories.
Monday night is my night to eat a meal. I picked Monday night because there is Monday Night Football. I do have a room, but my room has a 13” TV so I want to be somewhere else so I can actually see the game and not just hear it. We won’t go into my living arrangements today though. Just know that I only eat one good meal a week, and last night was it.
I go to this dive bar. You see, sometimes I like being left alone. When I am in that mood then don’t screw with me. I hate to be bothered when I am in my cave.
Oh, but this rule doesn’t apply to you. You can bother me ANYTIME.
Anyway, it’s this small Hispanic / biker bar off of an old side road. I’ve been there before, but I wouldn’t recommend it for just anyone. They have pretty good food and $1 longnecks during the game. So it was right up my alley for last night. I get my seat at the bar while noticing the “hard core” drunk passed out in one of the booths, and the two “yuppie” dudes trying out the wild side of life. And that was it, no one else in the bar.
I order chili and jalapenos, oh and a beer of course. The game is on a TV behind the bar. It hasn’t started yet, but the pre-game show is on. I dive into my chili, and take a few sips of my beer. Then I hear a female voice say, “Hi”.
Urgh.
I simply nod in her direction, hoping that by not speaking she will move on before I have to be my usual direct self and tell her to move. At that time I didn’t worry about all the questions I could have pondered; like why she chose to sit next to me, why not bother the two yuppies, why is she here at all, and why did she speak to me . . . a stranger.
I finish my chili. I don’t eat crackers, but the bartender did give me two packages. I was planning on taking them and placing them in the console of my car, just to have something on one of those nights when I don’t eat a meal. But this chick reaches out and grabs one of the packets while saying, “You don’t mind do you?” What could I say; she had already taken the packet before I had a chance to answer.
She begins to talk. She tells me her name and holds out her hand. I did glance at it, but just nodded and didn’t reach out to shake hands. Yet out of the corner of my eye I start to check her out. Not because I was interested, remember I am in my cave now. I was checking her out trying to find out what is motivating her to be here now.
She is a young Hispanic girl; I would guess that she was in her mid-twenties. She had a decent figure, although slightly heavy. She wasn’t fat, just heavy. She wore no jewelry, had on jeans that stopped at the knees, had on a Texans t-shirt where she had ripped the center to the bottom of her cleavage. She had on those cork bottom heels also.
My conclusion was that she must live in one of the small houses nearby, or a pretty run-down apartment complex about a half a mile away. He clothes weren’t dirty, her scent was clean and perfumed, and her hair was clean. I gathered that she probably wasn’t a hooker or she would have visited the yuppie dudes as they definitely appeared to have more money and were there to have fun.
My conclusion was that she was simply lonely. I figure she obviously wouldn’t sit with the guy passed out in the booth as she would have still been alone. I guess she didn’t choose the yuppie dudes because she wasn’t in the mood to be wild and crazy. And she didn’t choose the other end of the bar because she didn’t want to be alone. I guess I looked safe or something, I don’t know.
She struck up a conversation. Well, she actually just started talking to me, or should I say started talking at me. I wasn’t in the conversation. The game was starting now so I just sipped my beer and watched TV while she talked about things.
The bartender then came by and asked her what she wanted. I heard silence. I didn’t look her way, but again glanced out of the corner of my eye at her. She shook her head and said, “Nothing, I’m fine” Now we all know that if you want to sit in a bar you have to buy something. You can’t just “freeload”. So the bartender then looked at me and asked if she was with me.
She looked at me too. Damn! Sometimes I am just too nice of a guy. I didn’t verbally respond so as not to lie, but I did nod affirmatively. I guess I could tell that she had to be somewhere now too, sort of like me. I figured if she just wanted to sit (Oh, it was raining outside too) then she could just sit. I didn’t care as long as she didn’t bother me.
But, silly me, I didn’t think through the entire process. Now the bartender looks at me, after I had nodded that this chick was with me, and tells me that I have to buy her something. Oh the tangled web we weave when first we try to deceive!
Now she speaks up. She orders a Scotch! Hey, I have my limits also. I instruct the bartender that she will have a $1 beer, nothing else. Now I figure that she should have caught on by now that I am sitting alone because I want to be alone. I didn’t think I needed to explain it to her.
She reaches out and places her hand on my forearm as she says, “Thank you”. Ok, politeness is good, but let me tell you about being touched. Sometime during my 10 days of hell I mentioned before, I developed this phobia about being touched. It’s complicated so bear with me here. I LOVE physical contact with people that I know. But that contact must ALWAYS be in front of me. People I care about can hold my hand, touch my face, or rub my chest, as long as they are in front of me. But even people I know can’t come up behind me and touch me. And people I don’t know can’t touch me at all. Are you beginning to think I really am nuts?
So I jerk my arm away and decide it’s time for me to say something. As I do this I keep a calm tone in my voice, even though I want to explode for her touching me. I politely use words like “mam” and “please” while I explain my wishes to be alone. And as usual I feel I am very direct and clear.
But for some reason the simple fact that I finally spoke to her was like a win on her part. She just began talking and turned towards me crossing on leg over the other and bouncing her lower leg. Part of me was furious that she didn’t get it. But to be honest, while she was sitting sideways her top opened up a bit more and exposed a bit more. It was some nice “eye-candy”.
But I still really had no interest in her. I won’t go into why, but trust me when I say that nothing was going to happen. But she didn’t get that either. She continued to talk as if I was interested, which I wasn’t. Now I could tell from her conversation that she wasn’t very educated, not real bright, but did have some common sense. Maybe you could call it “street smarts” or something. But her talk was non-sense. I tried to ignore it.
But then she leaned over to me and whispered that I was the sexiest man she had ever seen.
Oh crap! You know, a year ago I would have been banging her within 5 minutes of that statement. But I am seriously in a different place today. So as I took stock of the situation I tried to find a way to explain my position clearer. I thought I had already, but apparently it didn’t take.
So once again, with politeness yet a firmer tone, I explained that she was an attractive girl but that I really had no interest in conversation, touching or sex with her. She stared at me for an eternity; I’m guessing that she doesn’t get refused too often. But like I explained to you, I have my reason.
I watch as her face turns to anger. She begins screaming at me, heck I wasn’t even paying attention to the words as I was so shocked that what I said would anger her. It became a scene as she slapped the bar in her tirade about me using words like “gay”, “impotent”, “ugly” and many more far worse terms.
Then, the bartender arrives. I am told that we BOTH have to leave. I am being kicked out of a dump because this chick wanted to screw and I wouldn’t. But I really am not in the mood for a confrontation, so I simply drop a few bucks on the bar and walk out. Yet as I get to my car, this chick is still screaming at me. Then she grabs a handful of rocks, dirt and debris and throws them at my car.
I just drive away thinking to myself, I REALLY JUST DON’T GET WOMEN.
As a humorous anecdote, I will leave you with some quotes my mom sent to me. This should help you understand her mind and part of why I am the way that I am.
It's not whether you win or lose, but how you place the blame.
We have enough youth. How about a fountain of "smart"?
The original point and click interface was a Smith & Wesson.
A fool and his money can throw one heck of a party.
When blondes have more fun do they know it?
Five days a week my body is a temple. The other two it's an amusement park.
LEARN FROM YOUR PARENTS' MISTAKES. USE BIRTH CONTROL
Money isn't everything, but it sure keeps the kids in touch.
Don't Drink and Drive! You might hit a bump and spill something.
If at first you don't succeed skydiving is not for you.
We are born naked, wet and hungry. Then things get worse. Although sometimes naked and wet is fun!!!!
Red meat is not bad for you. Fuzzy green meat is bad for you.
Ninety-nine percent of all lawyers give the rest a bad name.
One good thing about Alzheimer's is you get to meet new people every day.
Xerox and Wurlitzer will merge to produce reproductive organs.
ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE IS NO MATCH FOR NATURAL STUPIDITY.
The latest survey shows that three out of four people make up 75% of the population
I think Congressmen should wear uniforms like NASCAR drivers so we could identify their corporate sponsors.
Finally, please keep in mind that I have to take some time off next week. So don’t fret too much if I don’t post as much next week. But I will be around if you need me.
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