Last night I headed out to my favorite local dive for a few (ok, ok, several) drinks with some friends. I had a long day at work and was excited to share some laughs with a few of my favorite people over some delicious, fruity, beers. I was looking forward to just disappearing into the corner of the dark bar and drinking my troubles away, but the universe had other plans for me.
I don’t normally get hit on when I go out. I am not saying I don’t get smiled at occasionally, but when you hang out with mostly dudes (big dudes with tattoos at that), the boys don’t come lining up to talk to you. Last night, even though I was out with Roy (if you know him, you know) the men of Chicago seemed to show no fear. One in particular was a whole new level of brave/degree of douche.
It all started when I skipped outside to make a quick call. He asked me if I had a light, and within seconds he was mumbling under his breath. I asked him what was wrong, and he replied, “Everything. Well, lots of things. Just about everything.” Not really knowing how to respond I just said, “Well it could always be worse right?” After a quick pep talk on life’s ups and downs, I got Mr. Sunshine to crack a smile and thought that was the end of it. Good deed of the day complete.
I was looking at my phone, only half paying attention when he began talking about politics. Before I could get a word in edgewise, he switched the conversation to religion. After his rather offensive rant, I simply looked up and said, “You’re not very good at this are you?” I proceeded to head inside as he called out for me to wait up. He then offered to buy me a drink to make up for raining on my drunk parade.
I was definitely not interested in him, however I am interested in free booze so I obliged, and we sat down and waited for the waitress. Within about fifteen seconds the conversation turned to jobs. He told me he was an “entrepreneur.” I asked what business he was in, and he replied, “Prescription pills.” I tried hard to sound sincere when I asked if he was a sales rep. He could have quit while he was ahead, but he told me he was in fact a drug dealer. As I burst out in laughter, he walked away. I chuckled all the way back to my table thinking that was the end of it for real this time. I was wrong, so wrong.
About 30 minutes later my drug slinging suitor returned. I gave Roy the signal that he may or may not have to beat this guy if he said anything inappropriate to me, but instead of cursing me out or apologizing maybe, he asked, “Do you know where I could get some blow?” I asked him if it was 1998 and let him know I do not do any drugs. He asked me why not, and I told him, “Because I am a grown up.”
I thought for sure he would have walked off again, but he stuck around and tried to start up a conversation about my plans for the following weekend. I told him I was going to be busy leading a D.A.R.E. class at the local Y.M.C.A. He continued to talk about some great Mexican restaurant when I realized sarcasm was clearly lost on this guy. I pointed out it was never going to work out between us so he should just save his breath. I wished him luck with his cocaine use and pharmaceutical sales, and sent him on his way.
And people always ask me why I am not married already…
