Sunday, March 14, 2010

I complain on Sundays...

A gaggle of gripes to satiate your craving for the bitter within me... Don't act like you're not excited...

Today it's ASSHOLES IN BARS...

And boy, oh, boy, am I heated...

Alright, listen, I understand that bars are not the place to go to find:

a) Lasting relationships
b) Girls that are nice to each other
c) A dude without syphillis
d) A quiet evening with your friends

HOWEVER, I do subscribe to the school of thought that I should be allowed to go to a bar with my girlfriends to dance, and laugh, and drink, and not be forced to punch some ASSHOLE in the teeth.



There are so many instances that I could delve into, but my current level of ire is about this ASSHOLE that took it upon himself to confront a friend and I last night with his ROYAL ASSHOLINESS...

The night started off with a bang, and not the good kind, so it would be fair to say that I wasn't in the best spirits right out of the gate. And I'm not a huge fan of the fellas right now, either. I'm in that jaded, bitter, bitch phase of a break up where there is elevated potential for castration if I'm even looked at sideways. But this guy... THIS GUY... grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...

It is important for you to know that my dear friend Lola (wifey) recently chopped about 13 inches off her hair. Lola is stunning. Lola could sport a burlap onesie, moon boots, and not a stitch of make-up and STILL BE STUNNING. So when Lola chopped her hair into the most adorable pixie cut you ever did see, it was not a bad move on her part... She ROCKS it!



There we were, Lola and I, in line at the bar, minding our business, and this fella in front of us turns around to try out his game... this fella that could easily be the drunkest, ugliest, least clever fool in all of Washington state. It spiraled quickly and turbulently...

ASSHOLE: He better call you soon. Texting is stupid.

LOLA: Ummmm... what?

ASSHOLE: You were looking at your phone. He better call you.

LOLA: I was checking the time, but thanks.

ASSHOLE: Oooooo you're spunky... and eccentric.

LOLA: Thanks... it's the hair...

(ASSHOLE senses Lola's disinterest and turns to harass another group of girls equally disinterested)

ASSHOLE: (To Lola) Did you just cut in line? How are you gonna just cut in line?

LOLA: Nope. Not cutting. Please go ahead.

ASSHOLE: I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU JUST CUT IN FRONT OF ME!!!!!

LOLA: Seriously, not cutting. You were talking to the ladies. Please go ahead.

ASSHOLE: NO! It's fine. I'll be a gentleman this time. Go ahead and cut.

LOLA: Okay. Thanks. But again, not cutting. I just offered for you to go ahead twice.

ASSHOLE: No really, you go. Cuz you can "kind of" pull this look off, so I'll be a gentleman. (as he is looking her up and down)

ASSHOLE: (To me) Aren't you glad that I'm such a gentleman to let you go ahead of me?

ME: I'm sorry? Did you just say that you were a gentleman?

ASSHOLE: Yeah.

ME: Hmmmm... All evidence to the contrary. You seem a bit ASSHOLE.

ASSHOLE: Oh, well you seem like a bitch.

ME: WE'RE DONE TALKING NOW! PLEASE TURN AROUND AND WALK AWAY!

ASSHOLE: (To Lola) Sorry I pissed off your boyfriend. Maybe you should tell her that you need to get spanked more.

(Deep breath, summon patience, open fist, grab drink, walk away, say nothing)

I mean, who the hell was that guy? Offering completely unsolicited insults of my friend's appearance and my demeanor...

 
I am NOT a fan of the ASSHOLE...

4 comments:

  1. LOL. Amen. But, then again, who IS a fan of the arse? I think he deserved a good punch in the face, actually. I am still hoping you did but edited that out...

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  2. I second the above comment. Drink in the face, MINIMUM! What an assclown!

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  3. Ugh, what a d-bag. I'm so sorry. Even being drunk is no excuse to try to talk like that. And then call yourself a gentleman. Did he realize that he's not in grade school - this is not like pulling a little girl's pigtails?

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