1st time for everything

so last night was wednesday. today is thursday.

now you're up to date.

wendesday nights are my one night out a week. i go to the same bar, listen to the same band, chat with the same bartenders EVERY. WEDNESDAY. i call it my #wednesdaynightshenannigans. there's usually not actual shenannigans happening, it's just the idea that there could be.

i know all the bartenders by now. i'm friends with the band (that's why i started going years ago). i know most of the other usuals.

IT'S MY FUCKING CHEERS.

so. last night i'm in my happy little zen spot and unknown asshole sits down next to me. not a big deal. it's the kinda place that people from out of town gravitate to- mellow atmosphere, good music, close to most of the downtown hotels. i've had some fun conversations with people in town only for a few days- all sorts of interesting occupations they travel for.

asshole last night started off pretty rough- right away wanted to see my tattoo. ok. i have tattoos, people like to look. THEY'RE NOT BRAILLE. they're not scratch and sniff. THERE'S NO REASON TO PET THEM. oh yeah. holding, petting, generally creeping on my arm. and then my wrists. THANK HEAVENS the others were covered or not visible at least.

DEEP BREATH.

so, he backed off and we actually had an interesting conversation. then he started creeping up on me again. and i tried to very politely make it obvious i was not open to this- kept my arms crossed, leaned away from him, looked straight forward the whole time.

towards the end of the night he started this sentence: "...so, I have a really nice room at Hotel Lusso..."

OH. FUCK. NO.

i tried to deflect- oh, i've heard that's a good spot to stay when you're in town. better than the super 8 ha ha. 

subtlety is lost on this asshole.

"You should come back with me and explore this connection more."

umm...yannno. NO. HELL NO.

told him i was flattered but would have to decline.

FOUR TIMES IN A ROW.

not getting the hint: if i won't go back to his room, how do i feel about public displays of affection in a bar? 

i'm not that girl. sorry.

"really? i don't even get a kiss?"

seriously- what part of NO isn't sinking in?

and it didn't end there. it kept on for another 45 minutes with him getting more and more aggressive about it.

at one point i even pulled out a pretty good standard deterrent for extreme cases: "I have a submissive at home and have to stay within the confines of that relationship."

this USUALLY does a few things: it's not only a form of a relationship they're treading on, it's also a fetish or unusual type of relationship that makes *most* people uncomfortable. if you simply say boyfriend, guys like this will just keep on- oh, you don't have to tell him, i'm better than he'll ever be...the usual bullshit. so i usually go straight for the jugular pulling out the "submissive" word. *usually* works just fine.

not this time. this guy starts in about wanting to be cuckold.

OH. SHIT.

so i keep politely refusing. NO, i will not change my mind. NO, i'm not going back with you.
 
then this bomb dropped: "i've never been refused before."

isn't that what serial killers say?

immediately the hair on my neck stood up.

OH. HELL. NO.

and the asshole is still UP ON ME. and my bartender is watching and letting me know if i need help he's ready to bounce the asshole.

i'm getting very uncomfortable at this point. the guy is still touching me, RIGHT IN MY EAR to talk to me, generally being a creep. i'm trying to be polite, don't want to cause a scene, this is MY bar after all- he's only here for one night, i'll be back next week.

i would like to escape to the dance floor, but i know he'll follow. i would like to leave, but i'm worried he'd follow there too.

FUCK.

he asks AGAIN if i'll go back to his room with him. this time, with the bartender paying FULL attention, i said: "why would i go back to your room? i'm not the girl to go back the room of a traveling sales man and be his free hooker for the night. i deserve better than that and i'm not going with you."

my bartender knew full and well at that point what was going on and really started to watch me. i'm actually so uncomfortable i'm shaking. this guy is just NOT backing off.

and this guy FINALLY backs off a bit.

THANK HEAVENS.

so i quickly pay my tab, grab a friend of mine in the crowd (who happens to be a sturdy guy who works out often and plays semi-pro football) and ask him to walk me to my car.

YES, i asked someone to walk me to my car.

i've never been legit worried about some creeper in a bar before. this guy just set off all the red flags though.

i got home and i was SHAKING. that guy really got to me. he wasn't drinking at all, he was just that creepy of a guy. and to not take a hint. AT ALL.

and i felt so guilty- i know my bartender was being AWESOME and watching out for me. i felt bad he was worried and had to watch out. i feel bad that i didn't squash it the first time asshole tried to touch my tattoo. i feel bad that i wasn't less embarrassed and more vocal about telling him no. why should i be polite when he's trying to make me a free hooker? i was angry that he even thought it was ok to proposition me AGAIN after the first time.

it was honestly the first time it had ever happened. i've had guys try to pick me up before but backed off after i said no once. i've had drunks try to be all suave and it's painfully funny to watch. i've never had someone completely sober be so aggressive about repeatedly trying to pick me up. that doesn't happen to me. i'm the chubby brunette they chat up while they're waiting for the hot girl to get there (not tearing myself down, it's the truth- i see them scanning the door every time someone walks in/walks by).

i've NEVER felt threatened enough to have someone walk me to my car. i'm eternally grateful a friend that i trust was there and willing to help me out. i'm glad i was able to quickly pay my tab and sneak out while asshole went out on the dance floor. i'll think twice about having a conversation with a stranger that sits down next to me. and i HATE that. i like talking to all different people. i like finding out where they're from and why they're in town. but honestly it will take some effort for me to be willing to do that again.

i just- THAT'S MY BAR ASSHOLE. that's my zen spot. don't come in and try to shit all over it. you'll probably never step foot in there again. i'll be back every week. don't you dare ruin that for me.

typical wednesday night

you guys: i feel a SMALL twinge of guilt this morning. i think i broke someone’s heart a little last night. and not even someone i know- just some random guy in the concert house. i almost feel bad.

see. i went to a concert last night. alone. let’s not get started on how pathetic that was. at least i finally sucked it up and went.

so. i’m standing there, chatting with a few fellow concert goers and an adorable little redneck boy says to me:

“see that girl? mark my words, i’m going to marry her one day!”

me: “awwww…if i believed in marriage, that would be adorable!”

at which point his heart literally broke right in front of me. the look on his face- it was like he had just watched me kick a puppy at a newborn baby and then dunked them both in a vat of acid while punching a unicorn. he was SO UPSET.

even worse?

his girlfriend (or the girl he was referencing anyway) looks at me and goes: I KNOW, RIGHT? i like this girl, she says exactly what’s in my head!

ummm…ouch. let me know when that marriage is- i’ll make sure to keep the 4th of never open…

we continued to chat a little during which time i managed to completely freak out the adorable little redneck boy- to the point where he was saying: “yes ma’am” to everything i said. apparently he’s never met a female with an opinion or at least one willing to speak it before. i think it may have hurt his brain a little. for example, he was asking about why i didn’t believe in marriage to which i responded i wasn’t big on the idea of only sleeping with one person for the rest of my life. you’d swear he thought _I_ shot bambi’s mother after that.

here’s a few other enjoyable conversations i had last night:

in the girls bathroom- girl in stall is trying to “comfort” friend manning the door for her:

door girl: but i was flirting with him and he was flirting back, right?

stall girl: yeah, but flirting only gets you so far.

door girl: but he was totally into it, wasn’t he?

stall girl: no, he was pretending to be into it because you bought him a drink.

me: flirting and fucking are two completely different things. until you have a cock in you, none of it counts.

door girl: HEY

stall girl: oooo…say that again, she needs to hear that!

me: (repeat the previous statement) you can flirt all you want, until you either have a cock in your mouth or in you, it doesn’t really mean anything at all.

door girl: really? but he seemed so into it.

me: darling, you bought him alcohol, of course he was into it. for that moment at least.

stall girl: i like you. you say what i’m thinking but can’t say.

side note: GIRLS: if you can’t speak your mind to your friends (big assumption on my part…but one WAS holding the door for the other) then are you REALLY friends? grow a pair and speak your own damn minds already. i mean, i’m glad to be able to do it for you, but PLEASE, PLEASE learn to do it for yourselves.

so, there was a semi-cute guy in what appeared to be a snap front shirt (one of my favorite things on earth). i, of course, had to check it out.

me: sorry, not trying to grope you, just wanted to see if this is a snap front shirt.

*checking*

me: awww…they’re buttons. do you know how long those take to get off?

him: ummm…yeah, they kinda take a while.

me: and then by the time you get to the last one you’re bored and not really in the mood anymore and ready to move on to other things. you really should invest in snap front shirts.

him: what about his? (gesturing to his buddy standing across from him)

*checking*

me: nope. his are buttons too. and they’re even smaller buttons. those are REALLY hard to function in a hurry.

him: huh. good to know.

asshole buddy in a polo with his stick up the ass girlfriend: ummm, he’s single but NOT looking.

me: really? well, thanks for that tip. i wasn’t asking, just checking his shirt, but, you know, good to know.

asshole buddy: oh.

semi-cute guy: what do you mean by snap front shirts?

*demonstration of my own snap front shirt*

him: oh. that is handy.

me: by the way, nice pecs. those would be a good hand grip.

him: really?

me: yeah, the’re a little soft, but good edge to them. they’d work.

asshole buddy in a polo with his stick up the ask girlfriend: what? what about mine?

*checking with girlfriend before coping a feel*

me: umm…there’s nothing there. no pecs at all. couldn’t even pretend to get a grip.

semi-cute guy: *trying not to laugh*

stick up the ass girlfriend: *nodding along sadly*

polo asshole: *offended* what? you don’t need a hand grip anyway.

me: well, if that works for you, but these *coping a feel of the semi-cute guy again* are pretty good. these would work really well.

and then i walked away. thought it was funny how the asshole in the polo (really- who the fuck wears a damn polo to a country concert? bastard) was all trying to intervene for his buddy…then changed his tune a bit when i snapped back at him and then kept talking to his buddy. even funnier: semi-cute guy found me at the end of the concert, walked over and introduced himself and said it was fun talking to me. so. yeah, he was obviously really offended by my talking to him and needed intervened for. stupid asshole polo guy.

so. mildly interesting evening. GREAT music. way too many people that offended my eyes. the idiots at the venue decided to turn on the lights between the opening band and the main show- it was WAY too early in the evening/not enough alcohol in for THAT to happen in that crowd. seriously people: why must you offend my eyes so? there were more than a few coyote ugly people there- one girl was so offensive that i may or may not have said the following: “fuck, even if i woke up on the other side of the room from that, i would still chew my damn arm of just out of disappointment in myself for being anywhere near that!” to which several people agreed.

one girl there a group of us were placing bets on: she either had no nipples at all, or had piercings that were laced through her bra because that was the only way in hell something wasn’t flashing/falling out. seriously- those suckers were as far out as i’ve ever seen but still, oddly, against gravity, slightly contained. plus they were all covered in veins and WAY too vomitous. didn’t seems to bother the douchecaptain she was with though. they made quite the pair.

still trying to figure out how i didn’t gouge my eyes out before the evening ended. OH…and, in completely odd bar experiences: had three people smell my hair. one guy was approximately 900 feet tall and had to keep bending town to talk to me (and i’m not exactly short). during one of his excursions down from the north pole he stopped talking and just stood there for a minute. i’m all: umm…whatcha doin up there? he just kinda looked puzzled…and said: “your hair…” i laughed and said “skittles?” the hairspray i use totes smells like skittles. i may or may not have developed a bit of a huffing problem since switching to this brand. he kept smelling it while bending over to talk to me. i cracked up. then his buddies wondered what the hell he was doing so then they had to take a sniff too. i think one of them even bit me…wanted to taste the rainbow he said. so. you know. interesting experiences.

over all, not a bad wednesday.