You were cute until you opened your mouth. Next.

Breaking news. This past weekend I actually had a life, AND I went out on a week night. I know! I’ll pause a moment to let that sink in. I really enjoyed myself, and I attribute it in part to the fact that I was hanging out with some Hokies, of both old and new acquaintance. Something about being a Hokie which bonds us together and makes new friends seem like old friends. But I already waxed poetic about that jank so let’s move on to the hilariousness.

It has been a long while since I got hit on. Totally kidding. I don’t like to brag, but in fact it has not been a while. It has been a hot sec. It’s all good though, it keeps me on my toes, and it gives me something to write about. I love watching it happen and anticipating how everything will go down. It’s like watching TV sometimes when the plot is all too predictable, and you find yourself in a situation in which you predicted all to accurately, which renders you bored and/or laughing at the predictability of it all. It’s comical really. Plus, seriously, guys will hit on anything when they’re drunk, and some will hit on anything at any time, so this really isn’t even a compliment to me. I’m just there, enjoying my Corona Light. And I’ve been told my short stature and poofy hair makes me more approachable. Whatever. The following is indiscretion at it’s best.

I’m hanging out with a group of people which I have met recently (I’m going to be intentionally vague to protect the sources…I know, such honorable journalistic ethics), and there’s this dude. There’s always a dude. Or two. He’s decently good looking, friendly, etc. He’s chatty. The first time we met was a while back at a previous gathering. He was friendly, cute, and chatty then as well. And also extremely drunk. Recognizing this, I was appropriately holding back. I don’t like getting into deep convos or becoming extremely involved with super drunk dudes. Because one of two things happens: they forget they talked to you / had an awesome connection / got your number OR they just stare at your chest all night while babbling about something they incoherently feel is an awesome pick up line, which gets old. SO. We had this conversation which included him asking me inappropriate questions (which I will not enumerate here or anywhere) and making equally inappropriate comments. He informed me he had a girlfriend when I asked, so I was appropriately appropriate, despite his inappropriateness.

Fast forward to this past weekend. He’s at the bar, sans girlfriend and we’re chatting again. He’s getting to the point where he’s almost as drunk as he was the last time I saw him. We start talking about that last interaction. He tells me, a bit contrite, that he has only vague memories of our last conversation but remembers enough to know he should apologize. Inappropriateness, while sometimes comical, is not always the best course of action. We then talk about his girlfriend. It comes out in conversation that he did not, in fact, actually have this girlfriend the last time we talked. Only he thought it would be an awesome way to “get me” if he told me he had one. I politely inform him that typically this is not the tastiest bait for girls. He disagrees with me and says he’s had success with that line in the past. I shrug because really it doesn’t matter. You said you have one, I’m me and I’m special I guess so to me that closes the door, even if she is not present. I guess you could say I respect myself. He’s a bit more shocked by this than I thought he should be, and we go on talking about his “chances” the last time we met. He says, “so I could have gotten you last time?” I am unsure what he means by that statement, so I clarify and say that he could have asked me out and I would have at least considered it. He wants clarification. Does “asking me out” mean hooking up? Negative, I say, they are not synonyms. I tell him that next time he’s interested in a girl, perhaps he shouldn’t claim to have a girlfriend who is waiting for him at home. He nods appreciatively like he’ll definitely keep that in mind. I attempt to move on to some other more friendly and single people we’re out with. This guy is annoying me now because he just wants his ego stroked.

Then we have an exchange that went something like this:
Him: Those jeans are soooooooo tight. [slurring slightly]
Me: [blink blink] Sorry.
Him: What color underwear are you wearing?
Me: [blink blink] [unamused raised eyebrow]
Him, trying to give me a cute face but failing: Awww come on. Just the color?
Me, glancing at my not-empty-enough beer, sifting quickly through all the available bitchy comments I could choose from: [blink blink]

Luckily (for him) at this moment a much cuter and more single friend comes over and makes a remark about how weird it is that west coast people use 10 cups for beer pong instead of 6. Mr. Drunk Undies is captivated by this and wanders over to bother the two very attractive females who are playing said game. I feel bad for them but happy for me that he left and I didn’t even have to comment. Much better and more appropriate and adult conversation ensues with cuter, singler, less ridiculously drunk guy. Victory.

So, question. Actually couple of questions and comments. Do many guys think it is a good idea to claim a girlfriend to up your chances with another girl? Does this work? Ladies, is this attractive to you? And dudes, what does knowing the color of my undies have to do with anything? When I see a tush I like, I simply use my imagination. It’s more creative that way and to my liking. Maybe just be creative, that way you don’t have to risk offending said lady by inquiring about her undergarments.

Regardless. The conclusion is this: boys are smelly and stupid, throw rocks at them. And I learned that sometimes time should just not be wasted on those who are wasted. Keep it classy, San Francisco.

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One response to “You were cute until you opened your mouth. Next.

  1. Great story MSP. Guys will try anything on a girl, including telling her that he has a girlfriend, hoping that ups his chances. I have even heard of guys telling a girl that he is gay, which eases the girl’s barrier (most girls love gay guys), and then continue to hit on her until she figures out that he’s not really gay.

    The color of the girl’s underoos is a lame attempt at hitting on a girl that is not drunk enough or trashy. But to some girls, that works.

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