First off, I’d like to say that I was on point last night. I actually surprised myself with how on point I actually was. And when I say this, I actually mean it – I was my own hero last night.
Casey, his girlfriend Seph and I end up at the Outer Marker last night. Now, you go to the Outer Marker to relax in an extremely nonthreatening environment. It’s definitely not where you go if you are looking to find a soul mate or to get laid, for that matter. The waitresses are all way past their prime, drink openly on the job and fall into the – rode hard, put up wet – category. The majority of the patrons are not much better. There is usually a sprinkling of decent-to-hot guys there, but you know it’s only because they thought it would be a cool place to check out, get there and realize it’s not where they’re gonna get laid and rotate out fairly quickly. The other 95% of the patrons are all older men; men my dads age and up.
Our positioning in the bar was not meant to be strategic, but rather dumb luck that ended up resulting in one funny story after another. I suggested we shoot a little pool and the table that was open and most convenient was the one that everyone in the bar had to pass to get to the bathrooms. That lent for the guys who never would have approached us in any other bar on any other day to have a reason to talk to us while on the way to the bathroom. And let me tell you, that’s exactly what happened.
I’ll just pick a few of the more entertaining encounters…
>> Encounter One: Creepy Dude <<
Short, fat, balding, sweating profusely, roughly 48 years old.
He walks up as if he’s going to the bathroom and he makes eye-contact with me. I immediately knew that our eye-contact was an inadvertent approval on my part for him to strike up a conversation with me. Which, he did…
Him – I’ve been watching you and your friend for the last hour or so and you two haven’t moved. Are you not having fun?
Me – We’ve been shooting pool, what are you talking about we haven’t moved?
Him – Seriously, I’ve watched you for the last hour or so and I swear you two just don’t look like you’re having any fun.
Me – Wait a minute, you’ve been watching us for the last hour? I have to tell you man, that makes you a bit creepy.
Him – I’m not creepy… I’m…
I put my finger up so as to say one second, lean over to Seph and say…
Watch this, all creepy dudes who get called out on being creepy try and say that they aren’t creepy but that they’re…
AND I SHIT YOU NOT… at the exact same time that I get to that part in my statement, this guy starts talking again and in unison we both say…
Me – He’s gonna tell us he’s not creepy he’s…
Him – I’m not creepy, I’m more…
TOGETHER – Observant.
Then, I laughed. Really hard. Like the kinda laugh that you do when someone gets to the punch line of a joke that you thought was gonna be totally gay and then for some strange reason it made a 90 degree turn to hilarious. Yeah, exactly like that.
All he was wearing in that moment was a look of bewilderment as he physically felt his confidence float away. It was unfortunate really, because I’m not all that clever but like I said before – I was on point last night.
Him – No, I mean, I have just passed by here twice already and I just made an observation and wanted to make sure you were having fun.
Me – I don’t know what’s worse… that you have been staring at us for over an hour and that’s a bit creepy OR the fact that you have crossed by here twice and I didn’t even notice you.
Fine, my last statement was a bit shitty, but this guy had taken a step into my personal bubble, put his hand on my shoulder and was about to explain in drunken detail why he’s harmless and just observant. I was out on it and the last thing I said to him, made him prioritize going to the bathroom over convincing me of anything.
Angela: 1:0
Rejected Old Dude: 0:1
>> Encounter Two: I’m a Pool Shark <<
Tall, extremely overweight, red wine spilled on his white shirt, some weird gianormous growth that made him look like he had boobs on his stomach, gap in his unkempt teeth, roughly 52 years old.
So Pool Shark was watching us shoot pool for a few games. Then he did what any pool player who wants to play someone does and that’s to walk up and make a comment about the skill of the players. Generally, it’s a complimentary comment – sometimes shitty to rile a person up to be more motivated to play just to prove they’re good. The latter has a lower success ratio. This guy married the two tactics… unsuccessfully.
Him – You guys are pretty good. I was watching you guys play.
Me – You wanna play a game?
Him – I don’t play for anything less than ten-grand (and he was 100% serious).
Me – Are you kidding me? Who says that, first off? And second, anyone who throws that out there 2 sentences into a conversation while at a classy establishment like the Outer Marker, kinda falls into the douche bag category for me.
Him – I don’t care what you think of me. I could beat you playing left handed and I’m a righty.
Me – I could beat you playing with one handed.
(Now, I was truly talking shit at this point because he was annoying the shit out of me and I was already a few shots in and definitely should NOT have been making such bold statements. Oh yeah, and I suck shooting pool 1 handed – it would have been a massacre.)
Him – I paid my way through college taking money from people like you.
Me – I never said anything about playing for money. That was all you, man. I asked if you wanted to play a game on a dollar table with missing pieces and divots in the felt in a shit-hole dive bar. You know, for fun.
Him – That was your first mistake sweetheart. I don’t play for fun.
Me – Then why are you even over here? Did you think that you’d walk up say you only play for ten-grand and that I’d run out the ATM and say… let’s do this shit? And PS – I call bullshit on your shooting capabilities. Anyone who runs their mouth like you do deserves to lose what remaining teeth they have with the force of an on-coming right hook. Fortunately for you, you’re standing to my right and I’m too drunk to take a swing that would satiate my conviction of how truly annoying you really are.
And on that note… he mouthed something else shitty that I couldn’t make out and walked over to the bathroom, like that’s was his intention the whole time. He showed back up to our table mouthing a little later to which I was like – alright big guy… rack ‘em. Yeah, I lost. Which kinda sucked because #1 – I really wanted to beat the shit out of him but I only lost by 1 ball, so it wasn’t a massacre; #2 – Made all my previous shit talking nil and void; and #3 – I probably shouldn’t have been challenging people to pool at that point but rather throwing up the debauchery that I had consumed.
Angela: 1:1
Rejected Old Dude: 1:1
>> Encounter Three: Bill <<
Nice guy, tall, pleasant to be around, roughly 70 years old.
I’m leaning over the pool table, lining up yet another 8-ball shot that will win Seph and me yet another game against Casey. He’s eagerly waiting for me to miss the shot. I’m taking my time lining it up, relining it up, considering the table scratches and basically stalling. It was an easy shot… and I was clearly being dramatic followed by a horrible winner. When I backed up to look at the shot again, I backed-up into Bill. He was an old guy but nothing but smiles. So, I started talking to him.
Him – I bet you can’t make that shot.
Me – What do want to bet?
Him – I just bet you don’t make it.
Me – Oh, that’s no fun! What are you drinking?
Him – Crown.
Me – What’s your name?
Him – Bill.
Me – I’m Angela. I tell you what Bill, if I miss this shot, I will buy you a crown. If I make it, you will buy me a Miller Lite.
Him – Fair enough, but don’t miss!
And we shook on it. I stop screwing around and shoot it right in the pocket. Clean win. Perfection coupled with Redemption from the incident with Pool Shark. And Bill, a true man of his word, immediately flags down his waitress and orders me a Miller Lite. Then he tells his waitress that whatever I want tonight, to put it on his tab. I didn’t take him up on the offer, but I did decide that I’d do some harmless flirting. I figured I would be that bitch in a bar that took advantage of an old dude by just transferring my tab to him. However, if he offered… and ordered it from the waitress… then that was totally different. It’s not, but in that moment, it made me feel like less of a bitch.
And thus birthed Bill’s and my Outer Marker relationship.
Bill decided that Seph and I were school teachers. I didn’t even want to try to explain what an IT recruiter does so I said – Wow… you called it. I teach 3rd grade. Seph picked Kindergarten. I got a laugh.
During the course of the night, Bill would come over and say – Are you ready for another one? And my response (which got more and more belligerent as the night progressed) I’m always ready for another one, Bill!
Seriously, Bill was buying 5 to 6 shots per round – all Jagerbombs – and he easily bought 5 or 6 rounds. I’m actually not sure how many rounds he did buy because I lost count of how many of them I had actually taken. All I know is that Seph and Casey were gonna bail out and go to another bar, but when the drinks were flowing that resulted in me saying bye and be safe as we left Outer Marker at 2:30am. That’s right 30-minutes after the bar officially closed. I love the Outer Marker.
Funny part about Bill and I is that we both knew that it was never gonna happen between us. You know, he’s old… I’m not. Would never work really, no matter how many Jagerbombs and Miller Lites he bought me. But damn it Bill… I applaud you for trying!
Angela: 2:1
Rejected Old Dude: 1:2
>> Encounter Four: Bill’s Booty Call <<
Short little thing, dark hair – unnaturally dark for a lady her age, pissy, roughly 70 years old.
So there we are hanging out with our new best friend Bill when out of nowhere this little thing comes flying through, grabs Bill’s arm and says something shitty to him. The only thing I could really make out was…
Really Bill? Is this the shit you’re gonna pull…
I was standing to the left of Bill and this little fella had maneuvered in between us to bitch at Bill. And then he did the most amazing thing. He looked at me and said – can you believe her? To which I did not respond, but rather stood there wide-eyed kinda nervous about the situation at hand. Because if she turns out to be feisty, which she obviously was, and she hauls off and hits me… well, that puts me in an awkward position really.
I mean, I can’t a 70 year old tiny, yet hostile woman. Can I? Even if she hit me first? I don’t think that that’s appropriate. You know, it takes a lot to get kicked out of the Outer Marker, but getting kicked out for punching an old lady in the face really seemed like something that I did not want to add to my punch card (no pun intended). Furthermore, it’d be a fight over Bill. Shit, I was already 4-sheet to the wind. Someone cutting me off at that point wouldn’t have been a terribly horrible thing. Because lord knows, if you’d asked me, I was good to keep drinking even after the bar closed. But before it got to that point, she stormed off and went to the bathroom.
Me – Dude, is that your lady?
Him – No, a friend.
Me – A booty call?
Him – A friend.
Me – Friends don’t get mad like that and over this. They cheer you on.
And it was in that moment, when Bill smiled coyly at me, that I realized that Bill was a pimp. Go Bill. Wait… what does that mean in regards to me? I started to speculate that while my flirting was innocent, he was carefully calculating how much Jager it would take me to say yes to Viagra. And then as quickly as it had all started, it reached not fun anymore with a screeching halt.
His gal must’ve gone to the bathroom like a million times. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was old and had to go a lot, if she was just going so often to eye our group, or a combination of the two.
Either way… By that point Bill had moved on to Seph. I casually found myself in a game of pool pausing for the Jager shots. Bill and I didn’t talk much after that. Furthermore, it would now be Seph that was faced with punching a 70-year old lady. And while I was in semi-panic mode when it was me in the situation, I secretly decided it would be funny as shit if that happened. I was kinda rooting for it, actually. It didn’t.
Angela: 3:1
Rejected Old Dude: 1:3
AND FINALLY… I felt like since I witnessed this happen about 400x last night that I would at least devote a few lines to the bathrooms at the Outer Marker. I never thought that a swing door could be so hard to use. It was like people had forgotten how to use doors and furthermore forgotten how to read the words Men and Women.
You’d get guys that would walk up and stare at the two doors. Like you knew they were thinking – c’mon man… it’s 50/50… pick one… the odds are in your favor. And more often then not, that conclusion led to them heading towards the women’s bathroom. I can’t count how many people we stopped from going into the wrong bathroom.
Furthermore, the doors just push – in. But 90% of the time, they would try and push on the wrong side of the door, then attempt to press the other side, and nothing was working. Like they’re thinking – is this a trick door? No, silly me – it’s only a 1-staller and there’s someone using it. I’ll wait. PS – it’s not a 1-staller… there are 2 in there AND the door opens, if you’d… oh… I dunno – PUSH IT.
Bathroom Doors: 38:2
Drunk People: 2:38
Friday, September 18, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment