Nope. But neither does, "Is asking out a girl you talked to for 5 minutes at a bar via Facebook message creepy?"
I'm about to share with you, the exact message I sent to a girl I met 11 days ago for 5 minutes. Let me put it into context. Not that it matters. THERE ARE BILLIONS OF FUCKIN' GALAXIES IN THE UNIVERSE! I was out with my old friend Conor, who was meeting up with one of his friends. She brought us to a co-workers party at a bar. I didn't know anyone except for Conor and one of his friends from Harvard. I usually avoid scenarios like this mostly because I have no interest in meeting people and listening to their boring stories while I make little effort to hold back my dickhead comments. I don't do it to be mean. I do it because I need to be entertained somehow. That is until I drink myself into a coma and hope I don't wake up with pee on my cheek in the morning. But either way, there were women at the bar and the only other thing in the universe, besides the universe, I'm completely fascinated in but also completely ignorant of is Women. Black holes. Well Black/Yellow/White/Mulatto/Mestizo/Canadian, really any of the ones that look and taste good. (I'm done making comparisons to black holes and vagina openings (mouths?).)
When I was standing at the bar getting a round of drinks a girl came up next to me to do the same. We made small talk for a little bit about how it's a pain in the ass to get drinks at a packed bar. I told her she'd probably have more luck because...well...look at me. As we were waiting to get served, she introduced herself and we talked for a few minutes about nothing special. She got served first and ordered my drinks. I gave her the cash and even gave her some extra for a nice tip. For her and the bartender.
As I was standing talking to Conor and all of our new friends, I noticed that the new love of my life (it only takes 2 seconds of eye contact these days before I start writing love sonnets (poems are for pussies)) seemed to know everyone Conor's friend knew. I then realized she was a lawyer at the same law firm. Yes. Lawyer. I'm trying to find a chick that might swipe me into the train once in a goddamn while. Gold digger. When I realized I had a legitimate excuse at continuing the conversation we had at the bar, I made it my goal to charm. That's when I noticed some balding guy chattin' her up and hogging all of her attention. As I stood there, staring into my cheapest beer on the menu, I told myself to get ready for a break in their conversation. So I stood there and Uh-huh'd and OK'd my way through conversations with Conor and his friends but kept my eyes on the prize.
Now this is where I think I probably messed up. When I was keeping my eyes on the new love of my life, I forgot that Rape Eyes exist. What got me really pumped about talking to this girl is that I noticed her looking in my direction a bunch of times. At the time I thought: Oh shit. This girl wants to talk to me. But 11 days later, I'm starting to think: Fuck. It probably looked like I was red-lining on the Rape Eyes. Those probably weren't looks of "I want you to take my pantsuit off (she looked like she was headed to a business conference) and hug me really hard. For like 5-8 minutes. Then we can shower and cry together." They were looks of "Jesus Christ. This is why I don't go out after work. There's always some little faggy sorta Asian lookin' guy staring at me with his Rape Eyes and writing love sonnets in his head." But I honestly don't care. Hundreds of billions of stars in The Milky Way.
After what seemed like hours of staring at Ms. Lovely Lawyer (it was really like a half hour) I realized I had to pee. So I decided to take a quick break from love and empty my penis. I'm pretty sure I used to think all that watery stuff around your balls was pee. What an idiot I was, I never figured out why all that watery stuff in the ballbag was still there after I pee'd. (This was what I thought about while I was in the Men's bathroom.) I came back out. Fully charged and ready to go. But of course, when I came back, she was looking for her coat and getting ready to leave. Probably because the combination of my Rape Eyes and Balding Bill's boring ass conversations, reminded her that lawyer work can actually be far more fun than going to a bar.
So the rest of the night I thought about how often this happens to me. Not very. Girls don't ever introduce themselves to me, but if they do I dwell on them for days. And if they don't introduce themselves to me and I somehow get a chance to talk to them I'm always shocked and at a loss for words. Then I sit around and think about all the things I should have said. So when I woke up on Saturday, I did some really creepy research after I couldn't find Ms. Lovely on Facebook (I only had her first name), and decided that if I found her, I would reach out to her. And I found her.
This is creepy. I know. But for some reason I don’t really care. I’ve never done this before (but of course I would say that even if it wasn’t). The fact of the matter is, I thought you were cool and cute (which is #1 on the world’s endangered species list) and wanted to talk to you more but was outgunned by the dude with the bald spot (story of my life and one day (probably in about 4 years) I’ll be that bald guy, hopefully doing really cool stuff like talking to cool/cute girls at bars, actually, nevermind. I don’t want to be going to “cool” bars at 31). I’ll admit I don’t know how to talk to girls (women?) at loud bars on Friday nights (and beyond) because it’s weird and I’m not good at lying. Seriously. Talking to women at bars on Friday nights is the thing I’m worst at in life. That and Scattegories. Anyways. It would be cool to get a drink (in a bar, ha!) in a less loud place (or whatever people who go on dates do) and I could waste of few hours of your time.
So how did I get your full name?
But seriously. I sat around and thought about how creepy this is for a few hours today. Then I decided, “What do I have to lose?” Either you’ll (a.) ignore this and make fun of me to your friends who I don’t know (please do, I encourage it), (b.) you’ll respond with something mean (/hilarious) like “Aw! That’s so cute. I only talk to guys that are 5’7” and up. The kiddie table is over there.”, or (c.) agree to it (and probably regret it sometime in the near future). I’m sure I’m missing a few somewhere in there.
There used to be a time when guys would force women (if I used “girls” in this sentence it makes it sound even more inappropriate) to go on dates or to get married. I always wonder how they got away with it. Then I remember they had guns and lived to be the ripe old age of 35. They just didn’t have the time to write Facebook messages (trying too hard to sound charming).
Either way. I hope you consider it (that sounded confident). Enjoy your weekend. At least you’ll have something to laugh about!
Now I’m going to go spend the day thinking about how I asked a girl I talked to for 5 minutes out through a Facebook message. Can’t wait.
Oh yea. I don’t have a gun and I’m 5’6”. No need to sound the alarm. Trust me.
- Marty
It sounds like I'm trying really hard. I know. And the thing is, I was. And I don't give shit. I wouldn't even take back the Scattegories joke if I had the opportunity. Even at the time I thought, "This is a terrible joke." But I put it in there because...well...why the fuck not? I kind of like what I wrote to her. Mostly because it was honest. It probably doesn't exude confidence, but I wasn't, so why would it? I don't know the rules of asking chicks out through Facebook. If there were rules, the person that came up with them should walk the plank because sitting around and thinking of rules on how to ask girls out on Facebook is the only thing lamer than...asking girls out on Facebook.
I don't know if this is some sort of epiphany or mid-life crisis. No matter how much I joke around about being a pervert or being creepy, I never act on any of those things in public. In fact, I spend hours obsessing on ways to not come off as creepy. It's the true reason I don't talk to girls at bars. I know that they know that my only interest at that moment is to hug them really long and really really hard. Where has this gotten me? And why do I give a shit if some cute 27 (?) year-old girl wearing a pantsuit to a bar thinks I'm creepy? She don't know me. I'm a grown ass man. I will not spend any more hours of my life worrying about sounding creepy. Probably.
She never responded. It would have been nice if she had but I didn't lose any sleep over it. Honestly. I would have lost sleep if I had never tried. But I did, and I was honest, I can't be ashamed or embarrassed by that.
Either way, I'll just continue looking up at the stars in the sky. For once in my life, I believe one day I'll have my very own.
Actually I hope I have one main one and then like four or five on the side.
Your note has humor to it, but you put yourself down in your note too much, and you sound very unsure. That's why she didn't respond. It makes you sound like you would be too much of an emotional handful if she decided to take a chance.
ReplyDeleteYou have a lot of wit and you're a very funny guy, you need to use that to your advantage more. Women want confident guys, not men that they have to look after. Funny=confident to us, especially if you can get the group that you are with laughing too. She will see that and want to engage with you more. It's human nature to be around others who are popular.
If a girl keeps on looking at you at a bar, that's a good sign, though. You could move in with a funny joke are witty comment. It's bad when they avoid eye contact and don't bother to face you.
Hope you are well and I really enjoy reading your blog.
From an ex +J co-worker,
Jackie