Day 5–Lessons on what not to do

Girls’ night out. Went to an FHM party (yes, as in the magazine), met some people (random) at the party. Ended up having dinner with them at Buca di beppo. Ditched them. Drove around for over an hour. Tried to go into Luna Lounge–total sausagefest, but hell if we’re paying $15 cover. Drove around some more. Decided that if we found parking, then it was fate telling us that we needed to go to Wish bar. Moments after we said that, a parking spot opened up right next to the bar. Were waiting in line forever, when strange bouncer (?) bypassed 2 groups of people waiting, to escort us inside. If there was a cover, we didn’t have to pay it. Fate? We’ll see…

I ended up wearing a fairly dorky normal going out ensemble–white halter tank which is actually a North Face climbing shirt, gray pants, sandally heeled things for shoes. Hair=I tried to do the whole curly and loose and carefree look, but then at FHM, I caught a glimpse of myself in the bar mirror and decided to wear in standard ponytail for rest of night. For the majority of the night, I had to wear a sweater due to the fact that 30 minutes into the FHM party, I spilled a cosmo down the front of my white shirt.

N: Captain Obvious
S: 6’1″, 200 lbs (?!?)
MOC: IM through personals
C: First off, had no profile to show me, so I had no clue if I even wanted to continue talking (shallow, remember?) Mentioned something about going on a cruise or trip or something wasnt really paying attention. I responded by saying that first he needs to post a profile. Then maybe we can talk later. Then he says, “okay, maybe not dinner then, how ’bout lunch?” Okay, again, I cant even see you, and Im not going on some blind date. Are you kidding me? Its already bad enough that we are communicating via IM. You have some clue as to who I am/what I look like, but I have nothing. And then you want me to go out on a cruise…sorry…lunch? “How about coffee then?” What did I just tell you? Put up a profile, then we can start from there. Right now, I’m not having it. “Well, a profile takes a long time, and I was hoping that we could go out tomorrow.” WHAT??!!!????!?!??!?!?!?!?!?! Even if you were God, I would say that you should not ask a girl out the day before you want to go out. Its called common courtesy. I asked him what he was thinking. That he should know that you should not ask a girl out like that if you valued her time. What did he say? “I know. But I thought I’d try.” Look dude, I dont feel sorry for you, so dont even play that. Heres a quarter. Get a clue.

N: Slippery Fish
S: 6ish, blonde, piercing blue eyes, hot. hot. hot. hot. hot. did i say hot? are we in SF?
MOC: Met at FHM party. First guy I noticed walking in. Did I say that? I actually *noticed* a guy? In SF?
C: Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. I made semi-eye contact when first walking into this party. But then, whenever I looked over in his direction, I kept catching the eye(s) of his peanut friends. Should have been more direct. Should have said something to him. Instead, tried to worm my way next to him and friends and look in direction. Then he just finished his drink and left. Fuck.

N: Creme shirt
S: 6ish, buzzed hair, skater boyish
MOC: FHM party
C: Another failed attempt at trying to get this guy to pay attention. Think he may have looked once or twice, but also think there was gay potential. Dammit. Again, not aggressive enough, and sidetracked by stupid Ben Stiller and sidekick. When I finally emerged from that fiasco, he was gone. DAMMIT.

N: Licorice Troll
S: who gives a flying fuck
MOC: FHM party
C: Straddling the “PURE” fence. Although, to be fair, I keep merging the image of him w/the image of this other guy who was wearing a very conservative outfit–long sleeved dress shirt, slacks…and black gold-toe socks w/freakin’ Teva-like leather SANDALS. As for Licorice Troll, he was wearing all black and I guess thought he was cool. Looked like a bloated, waterlogged Balki. Seriously. His line: Looks like you girls are laughing about something really personal. Yeah, and maybe thats why you shouldnt interrupt us. “So you couldnt share the joke with me?” Um, no b/c being that its personal, you wouldn’t understand, now would you? He tried to instigate more conversation. We just totally turned away.

N: Matt Leblanc
S: Matt Leblanc w/blue eyes. And as R says, “big teeth” But seriously, looked so much like ML
MOC: FHM party
C: He and friends were staring so hard. K told me to talk to him, but kind of didnt feel like it as I couldnt really stare at his face without him thinking that I wanted to have his babies. OF the glimpses I caught and reconstructed, he had a 50/50 chance of being okay.

N: No balls
S: Asian dude
MOC: FHM party–but get this one: HE didnt have the balls to come up to me. Instead, his FRIEND (yes, his friend) and friend’s gf came up to me. “Excuse me, but my friend thinks you are really attractive. He doesn’t know we’re over here, but would you mind if he came over to talk to you?” Um, yes I mind. First and foremost, if you are still in high school, and do not have the cajones to talk to me ON YOUR OWN, then lets just face it. Its not going to work, now is it? You gonna get your FRIEND to come over??? Being that I felt trapped, the hell am I supposed to say. I told the friends that hes already got like double negative points for the lack of balls, and he’s going to have to do a lot of climbing out of the hole he just dug for himself . Friends respond, “oh, he WILL climb.” Um, okay. If I said jump, he would say…? Nevermind, don’t answer that. 10 minutes later, No Balls STILL hasnt approached me, so we decide to stand in line and get another drink. I think we’ve lost them, but then I see the friends come by and scope things out. 15 minutes later, No Balls is standing beside me in line. Except I don’t know its him b/c I never really got a good look at him. “Is this the end of the line?” [insert stereotypical Asian accent] I thought it was just some dude asking me a question, so I turned to look behind me and said, “no, I think its back there.” Then I notice that No Balls is not moving. Finally he bursts out, “Yeah, so, my friend…he is playing prank. Its just a prank. I’m so sorry if he embarrassed you. Are you okay?” I mean, yeah dude, its really no big deal. Whatever. Im not really traumatized or anything, but next time, grow some balls and talk to a girl. Because whats worse? Being rejected b/c you tried, or being rejected b/c your friend fucked up what little game you may have possibly had?
C: nuff said

C: HELL FUCKIN’ NO FUCKIN’ WAY. AKA ARE YOU FUCKIN’ SERIOUS. I want to establish the fact that whatever I write here will not compare in any way to what we had to deal with in person. Kid is short and yes, looks like Ben Stiller, but strangely, he was amusing…AT FIRST. And even then, only amusing in the way a circus clown or village idiot is amusing. When he asked where we were going/what we were doing the remainder of the night, he seemed to respond fairly well to my answer of, “first you tell us where you’re going, and then we’ll make sure not to go there.” Did a lot of impressions. A. LOT. No, like for real. A LOT. But see, it wasnt enough to simply change his voice to carry out his impression. OH NO. When he was impersonating Zoolander, more specifically, “The look,” he had to TURN HIS BACK to us while he prepared for the magical unveiling of his impression. Then, VOILA, he would turn around, and repeat some lines in Zoolander voice, all the while giving us the creepy Zoolander stare. Encouraged by his previous execution of said look, he DID IT AGAIN. This time, he was sure to prep us by saying, “And now….El Tigre” I’m sorry, did he say, “el tigre??” Did he actually DO that? Is this happening???? But oh, this alone was not enough. No, no. Remember the “hookup?” Well, El Tigre asked us if we wanted anything to drink, plainly and clearly said, “you’re having a cosmo, right?” Then turned to C–who I should point out, was still working on a drink–and asked her what she was having. Then el tigre disappears to the bar for a while and brags about how things are taken care of. The drinks arrive, and El Tigre just stands there, looking at us. I was confused as to what was going on, until I saw C reaching for her wallet. In my state of shock, I was rendered completely witless and silent. Neither of us had any money, and had to ask K –who btw was engaged in separate conversation–for some money to pay for the drinks El Tigre ordered for us. Un. Fucking. Believable. You do not offer 2 girls a drink–ESPECIALLY when you are bordering peanuttiness–and then not pay for the said drinks. Where was the “hook up” exactly, el tigre? B/c if by “hooking up” you mean going to the bar and talking to the waiter, then shit, every fucker in the FHM party was “Hooked up.” Would have been PERFECTLY FINE without a drink, or for that matter, w/out talking to you and w/out seeing your stupid impressions. But since you forced it on us, you should at least pay for that. Christ. Are you serious? And this is after he talked about how he worked at Oracle. Never in my entire life have I had to pay for my own drinks when some guy has offered. Never. Ever. EVER. EVER. Did I make that clear enough? EVER.

N: Haiku and Alf
S: one is tall and bald and turkish (looks like Drew from the Amazing Race), the other is tall, bespectacled and gayish (looks like that guy you always see on TV who is trying to sell his book ‘how to get things for free–the one w/the question mark glasses?? ? anyway…)
MOC: FHM party
C: Very harmless nice guys. Names given are not real names, but what they sounded like phonetically. Were very friendly (if you’re ever in Turkey, we got the REAL hookup, not an El Tigre style hookup). Invited us to some International party where Haiku is going to be spinning. Could be interesting. We have VIP passes and all. Would be a shame to let those go to waste…

N: Pelle Almqvist
S: 5’10ish-5’11″ish, shaggy rock star hair, blue eyes?, dimples, nice hands, supposedly had nice abs, looks like Mick Jagger or lead singer from Hives mixed in w/a little SoCal Surfer. Microbiology something or other. Spoke Japanese.
MOC: FHM party
C: While C and I were busy talking to El Tigre, the 2 others in our group snuck off and engaged in conversation with the only good looking guy left at the party–Pelle. Want to know whats fucked up though? The girl that Pelle was chatting it up with, was also the only girl who HAS A BOYFRIEND. So meanwhile, C and I get to play wingman to a girl that is already taken. And need I remind you of the bullshit drink situation mentioned earlier concerning El Fuckin Tigre. From afar, C and I were drooling–the smile…the hands…the whole rock star shaggy hair thing…I had been trying my damndest to nudge K into introducing us (back when we were talking w/el tigre) so FINALLY she brings him over to our table. I tease him just a little bit. I think he doesnt like it. Pelle is very touchy-feely, speaks very deliberately, and seems to carry a hella lot of baggage. We ended up having dinner w/him and his 2 friends (who we had just met) and exchanging numbers. Actually, more like S and him exchanged numbers, and he put his number into K’s phone. Also sorta ditched him as far as plans for the rest of the evening. Overall, he seemed like a really cool guy to hang out with, but other than that, has potential to be semi-cuckoo in the noggin. Perfect case of someone looking good, but just not feelin’ it. Even if he did give good hugs…

N: Chip
S: Remember that guy in Karate Kid? Not Ralph Macchio, but the blonde bully who wore the skeleton costume? yeah, he looked like that. But shorter. Hard to gauge height, but I’m thinking 5’10”, although its more likely he was 5’9″.
MOC: Met at Wish
C: The way he started talking to me did not feel anything like a pickup line. I actually don’t think he was trying to pick me up either–at least not at that stage in the game. Basically, he just pointed to his 2 weird french friends on the dance floor and said that if I ever wanted to dance with two of the craziest dancers in the world, then they were over there (point to friends). I was like, yeah, thats okay, Im not that brave, or for that matter, that drunk. So we get to talking. I really want to mention his real name, but need to protect his privacy. Lets just say he is named after an animal. A very big one that you can find in, say, Yosemite National Park. I have to admit, the whole being able to look someone directly in the eyes (being that he was my height almost exactly w/heels) was quite strange, yet actually, not as bad as I thought. Like for some reason, I didn’t feel like his height was an *issue* for me. (see, Im working on it!!) Yes, it was something I noticed, but no, it wasnt like I was crossing him off in my head. For one, he was actually interesting to talk to. And when he said, “I don’t even want to ask you what you do for a living b/c thats so cheesy. I’d rather know more about what you do, and what you like to do.” Well, I found that very very refreshing as it is a big BIG pet peeve of mine to meet some guy, and then spend the rest of the evening analyzing all the pros and cons of his position at his given place of work. More points for not asking about my “nationality.” What did we talk about? I dunno. Stuff like yosemite (he had me at Half Dome) and restaurants, and this thing called Burning Man, and Germany and how the dating scene is so weird in SF, and Austin and snowboarding and more about the dating scene and how men/women act/respond to given dating situations. We did get around to the whole “what do you do thing,” only b/c now there was so much pressure surrounding the subject. He did something to do with Aerospace engineering. “In other words,” he said, “I’m a dork.” He’s from the EC, (Connecticut?), went to school in Philly, then chose SF over NYC to live/work. Would never in a million years think of this guy–who, if you haven’t realized by now, looks totally 1980s prepster–as an engineer. Whats more is that he wants to be an astronaut [insert comment about him having no problem fitting in cramped shuttle spaces] Throughout the whole conversation, I never had the impression that he was hitting on me, or even wanting anything more than what we had right then: just talking and passing time getting to know another person. His sister was there, and I thought their interaction was sweet and totally reflected a lot on him. More points added. Finally, the lights started flashing for last call. Chip offered me a drink, but I was borderline spent. Without any sort of awkwardness or pretention, he says, “I think you are cute, and I would like to talk to you more outside of the bar scene, so if you want to give me your number, I would like to maybe go out sometime. If thats okay with you.” I told him that I would give him my number, but on the condition that he called. And then we shook on it. B/c I felt like there was this mutual understanding about how meeting a person and exchanging digits is cheesy and rarely works in the light of day. Still apprehensive, I said, “well…I guess we’ll see if you really do call.” and then he offered to put his number in my phone, but I said, that if he wanted to call me, he’ll call. If he doesn’t, then he doesn’t. I’ll leave it up to him. And then I extended my hand to say goodbye and nice meeting you, but instead he leaned in and gave me a hug…and a kiss on the cheek. It was a friendly non-invasive kiss that both surprised me and actually made me think of him as more than just like some preppy kid brother type. I guess we’ll see, although I feel very skeptical b/c of our lack of proximity w/in the next 2 weeks: he’s going out of town this next week. I’m going out of town the week after. It will be interesting to see if we do actually catch up with each other. I hope we do. He seemed really cool–to at the very least–just hang out with. Do I feel a connection? Strangely and surprisingly…yes. Time will tell on this one.

Definitely a night of what to do, and more importantly WHAT NOT TO DO. Tigre? Are you reading this? Because you should. Because you should know that you already have the cards stacked against you, so the very least you could do is buy a girl a drink when you are the one offering the drink. You traumatized both me and C for the rest of the night. Whenever some guy asked, “would you like something to drink, ” in the back of our minds we were thinking, “wait, does this mean he’s offering us a drink, or just ordering us a drink?” And then when a girl is going for her purse, then doesnt have money, then is asking 2 of her friends for money…that is your cue Fuckwit.

I should also note that when i got home, there were like 50 messages from the personals. Now, see, here’s the deal. If you are lame and desperate or home on a friday night (not that there is anything wrong with that) try to at least have SOME game. Like don’t let the girl know that you are home, on a Friday night with nothing better to do than look through the personals and IM some girl. The best came from Typical Apple Pie (remember him?) who said, “I wish you were here.” Are you kidding me? Do you think that its a coincidence that I never respond to your messages? Dude, obviously its not going to happen. Am also further regretting the mentioning of guys w/dogs, b/c let me restate: yes, having a cute dog is a definite pro, but this does not automatically qualify you for a date. Doug E Doug mssged to see if we were still “on” for sunday. I feel VERY lukewarm about this encounter. Like pulling teeth lukewarm, but okay…I guess I will go.

In conclusion, I want to stress that this is by no means a “typical” night. Usually, when going out, I am oblivious to the opposite sex, and uncaring either way. I feel that the reason we did meet those that we did had everything to do with a)not expecting anything and b)being completely open to the idea of meeting…whomever. As for the online dating thing–while it should be an ideal situation–you get to *know* the person before actually meeting him–its still sort of weird to me. I feel like it gives license to the trollish types who I would never in a million years talk to if I met them in person. Reading someones stats on paper–height, age, job, whatever–doesn’t really account for what that person is truly like. Taking a page from my own book, if I had met Pelle or Chip online, I probably would have found myself more *attracted* to Pelle, and probably would have already written off Chip.

As for El Tigre–that guy never had a chance. Not now. Not then. Not online. Not in person. Not ever.

Get a fucking clue.

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