To begin with, the inspiration for this story: A couple weeks ago I had a twitversation with a gentleman as he was being "hit on" while at a bar. Tweeting whilst being hit on would have been an odd thing to do if he had not been less than flattered by the attention.
You see ladies, men say they like it if the woman makes the first move, but when you make a "first move" on every man in the establishment, you are no longer charming in your confidence. You become the crazy desperate broad who will go home with anyone in order to bolster her self esteem for a couple moments. You are the one night stand who is expecting a breakfast in bed accompanied by a marriage proposal in the morning.
It all starts out innocently. It's Friday night, you put in your 40 & you are ready to let loose, to go out and have fun with the girls, just like those fiercely independent ladies on the reruns of Sex in the City you watch while packing away a pint of Ben & Jerry's the other four nights a week. (I'm exaggerating, I know). You shower, do your hair, use the expensive perfume & wiggle into the strapless bra to wear with the halter top you picked up last Saturday morning. You make a round of phone calls as you pick over leftover pizza (you need something in your stomach to help process the alcohol) trying to rally the troops for a night out. You find some friends willing to hit the town & you nail down one as the designated driver. You are ready to go.
In reality,your hair is not cooperating because of the humidity, the perfume is Sensual Amber body lotion from Victoria's Secret and that top is not the right cut for your figure, the color is all wrong.
Your friends show up dressed much more casually, and damnitall, they look better than you with a lot less effort. Nevertheless, you are going out and you are going to have fun!
#1 This is the first step to the crazy: You're conscientiously competing with, comparing yourself to, your friends.
You get to the bar, giggle as the bouncer asks for your I.D. and find a table near the dance floor. (Good grief, I don't even like where this story is going.)
Take 2: You get to the bar & pile into a booth or sit around a table. The waitress takes your order and while your friends start chatting you scan the room for good looking single looking men, oblivious to the conversation around you. You spot one & nudge your closest friend to ask her opinion to see what she thinks. She checks him out as he happens to look over to your table, at the same time she is casually smiling at something being said by someone else at the booth while still looking his way. Shitshitshit now he's thinking she's interested in him, when you had just called dibs.
#2 Hooking up/meeting/dating is not a team sport. If he looks good, take a chance & worry about your friends' opinions after the 2nd date.
#3 It's not your friend's fault she's the one who is smiling & you're fretting over whether or not some guy whose name you don't even know likes you based on a glance across the bar.
Well, just because you struck out with the first guy doesn't mean the night is a bust. There are more men. You square your shoulders, grab a friend, and head to the restroom in order to get a better look at the other prospects. Once in the restroom you jabber away, bad mouthing your first friend who is now enjoying a beer beside the first guy you picked out and asking your companion's opinion of the other men present.
#4 Keep it positive & lighthearted, as you never know who is in the stall next to you. It could be the tall stud two booths over's best gal pal! You don't want to make a pass at him to find out she already told him you're a Negative Nancy with a wagging tongue.
You exit the restroom & instead of joining the rest of the group you proceed to attempt to strike up a conversation with any man you think will give you the time of day. After each failed attempt you return to your dwindling group, wondering each time when so & so left (and who they left with, gasp, that slut!) taking shot of liquid courage and foraging out for another go round. You continue this until you have one friend left, patiently waiting for you to finish living it up for the night. She stays out of a sense of obligation, knowing you're not going to make it home responsibly on your own. Unfortunately this will also make her shoulders the ones you cry on before you pass out alone.
#5 You drank too much.
#6 No one is going home with you after you've been shot down with every other man in the bar.
#7 You shouldn't be trying to meet men in the bar. Duh.
Screw this bar! Their drinks are weak and overpriced. You convince your semi-sober friend (she can't watch you without crying while being completely straight laced) to go to different bar. (Don't worry, you're walking there.) When you get there you find that's it's an off night for that bar, it's fairly empty & the pickings are slim. You recognize a man you tried to hit on earlier in the night & you head off to make a second go at it while your friend sidles up the the bar and is promptly bought a drink by a good looking guy who was in the restroom when you walked in.
#8 You went back for sloppy seconds on rejections when you are clearly plastered.
Your "date" leaves and you head to the bar. You interrupt the friendly conversation in progress to bend your last remaining friend's ear about how nobody loves you. You expound on how you are going to die alone. You are generous in sharing your disapproval of the bartender for not serving you, because you are not drunk, this is your personality, bitch. You let everyone know you do not need to change in order to get a man, if he is right for you he will recognize you for your inner strength and beauty, for the rivers of passion that run through your veins.
#9 I repeat, you interrupt the friendly conversation in progress. The dignified thing to do at this point is to sit your ass down, order a glass of water, sit quietly and wait to be escorted home by your friend who is a saint because she is going home with you instead of for coffee with the charming gentleman next to her. The charming gentleman who is enough of a gentlemen to offer to drive you both home, AND AND AND doesn't seem the type to proceed to try and force his way into your home and kill you both.
You become resentful of your friend because without even trying she hooked a man. You tell her so, in front of the man. The man who had a decent looking friend in a similar state as your own. A decent looking friend who is starting to notice you before you storm out of the bar to be chased by your friend and the man and his friend where you proceed to puke and cry on the curb. Because she has had enough, God bless her patient little heart, she bums a smoke from her new friend and continues her conversation while the drunk decent looking friend attempts to look after you by rubbing your back and telling you how pretty you are.
#10 If I have to tell you what is wrong at this point, you are and will always be the crazy broad at the bar.
Your friend's new friend takes you all home. Along the way you lean forward and "whisper" to your friend you think your friend's new friend's drunk friend is cute. You proceed to make out with the drunk friend in the back seat. Thoroughly embarassed at this point your friend has her new friend drop you off first and doesn't say anything to stop you from inviting in your new boyfriend to spend the night. Your friend and her new future fiance head to the all night coffee shop and get breakfast. They are married eighteen months later and the drunken friend, who never called like he said he would, is the best man. You were the maid of honor, as you practically set them up. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. Sigh.
#11 Really, you should have stopped reading at #7.
And they lived happily ever after.
*I'm trying out toad licking, as I feel bats are getting a bad rap when we use the phrase "bat shit crazy."