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The Good, the Bad, and the Redhead

“I like to do my principal research in bars, where people are more likely to tell the truth or, at least, lie less convincingly than they do in briefings and books. “- P.J. O’Rourke

Last night was a good night.

It was nearing party time, and I really had no plans to go out. It was like one degree outside and I felt perfectly comfortable chillin’ in my apartment. My friend, Maverick, had been wanting me to roll with him, but like last week I flaked him off.

Instead, the redhead from Wednesday started on a text messaging/calling frenzy around 9pm.  Originally she had told me she was busy and that we should hang out tomorrow, but now she wanted me to come meet her at the bar.

I shrugged and said, “okay.”

I wasn’t doing anything but watching a Ken Burns documentary, so I quickly got dressed, ate some pasta-tuna salad and caught a cab down to the bar she was at.

HAHA! I am laughing just thinking about the events that transpired at the bar.

I arrive at the bar, and the redhead, as soon as she sees me pulls me away into a corner. She is WASTED! We start making out. I think it’s suspicious that she would do such a thing, and I ask her, “yo, are you here with someone else? It’s totally cool if you are, I can leave, no problem.”

I have been in these situations before and can smell them a mile away. She says, “no, I’m not here with anyone else.” I trust her, we make out some more then I go to meet her friends. She is there with two dudes and a girl. One guy has been married for five years and lives in San Francisco. Still, he is trying to hit on the girl in the group, even though as he puts it “she is a DYKE!” His words not mine. We will call him the “adulterer.”

The other guy is this taller, skinny guy that has really low self-esteem. I can tell as soon as I meet him. I quickly guess that she is there with him. I grab a beer and I think about it some more, and I come up with the assumption that this guy doesn’t have many options in his life, but she uses him as the permanent second option. She gets with other guys in his face, and he does nothing about it, just hopes that she will come home with him in the end.

I am getting weird looks throughout the bar, and yes the situation is awkward, but it’s still early and I figure I’ll buy a ticket to this shit show until around 11 or 12 at which point I’ll move on.

After awhile, the redhead goes into the bathroom with the Lesbian for a LONG time, maybe 30 minutes. In the meantime, I take shots of yager with the Adulterer and the Hanger-On.

The Hanger-On and Adulterer work at the same job, except the Adulterer commutes once a month. The Hanger-On could do the same, but he keeps saying that he is not good at his job, he is only there because he is able to fool people that he does a good job. This guy is more pathetic than I thought. At one point I say to the Hanger-On, “man if she doesn’t come back soon, I am going to start talking to other girls!” He quietly responds, “yeah you should!”

During the break, I ask one of the workers there who is also my friend to get me some information on the redhead. Later on in the night he comes back and says, “yeah, i talked to the bar manager and she was going out with Hanger-On heavy in the summer, but now she gets with other guys right in front of her face. But right now, she is making out with the one girl in the bathroom. I  guess she’s just a freak!”

He pats me on the shoulder and says, “the night is young, my friend.”

Indeed, it is.

The pair come out of the bathroom, the Hanger-On sticks a tongue in the redheads ear, she pulls away, she pulls me aside, we make out some more.

The adulterer gets ready to go, and so does the Lesbian. They leave separately. Not long after, the Hanger-On decides to leave, but I really think he is bringing the car around. The neighborhood we’re in is notoriously difficult to park in.

I figure this is my shot to make it plainfully obvious that I am trying to have sex. I tell her that we are going back to her place, we are going to watch a movie and have fun. She says “no, I barely even know you.” She keeps talking about meeting up tomorrow, and I tell her “maybe,” but at this point, I am more like, “fuck this girl.”  She is getting up to leave anyways, so I finish my beer first. I look out the window to see Hanger-On picking her up. I was right!

The night is still young, as my friend said.

It’s 1 degree outside, I call King Lear and he says that he’s at a bar nearer to my house. I tell him that I’ll meet him there. Except on my way there, I take a wrong turn and end up getting lost for the next TWO HOURS in the freezing cold. That is no exaggeration my friends, TWO HOURS! There were points when I could not move a muscle on my face!

At one point, I actually walked through a graveyard which was fine until about halfway through, when I realized I was walking through a graveyard. I instantly became paranoid and scared, the woods in the distance became houses for all kinds of derelicts, in my imagination.

I tried to call my friends, but none of them were answering.

Why I didn’t just go meet Maverick at a nearby bar, I don’t know.

I finally make it home and it’s past 2 AM-all of the bars are closed. I could go to after hours, but I am not up for it at this point. I tried to take a shower, but the cold water in our bathroom was off. I think the pipe froze from the cold! The only option was to take a boiling hot shower. Instead, I treated it like it was a sauna and sat in the steamy bathroom.

Tangent: Does your dick shrivel up when it’s really cold? I have a pretty nice sized penis, but it was smaller than I had ever seen it after being out in the cold! I started to become scared that this was permanent!

After I warmed up a bit, I put on some porn, but again I just wasn’t interested. I finally went to sleep.

Now why did I say this was a good night? As far as the events of the night were concerned this was a terribly SHITTY night. Seriously, I can’t even remember the last time I had a night worse than this.

Well my friends, it was a good night because of my reactions. In the past, when I would have figured out she was there with another dude, I would have been shattered. I would have flipped out on her and acted like a total idiot. Instead, I was like this is pretty funny and it’s early, I’ll stick around for this, then head somewhere else.

Also, during the long walk, I probably would have had suicidal thoughts. I remember, after having an eerily similar situation a year ago, I was so drunk and so sad, that I walked down the middle of a road, yelling for “THE WORLD TO TAKE ME!” all the meanwhile bawling crying. I am lucky I didn’t die then.

The redhead messaged me at 8AM this morning: “WHAT happened last night?” HAHA! She knows, she just doesn’t want to admit it!

I will probably talk to her again, but not for awhile-probably not today. After all, I do want to get laid. I just don’t want to deal with bullshit like last night. I honestly don’t care if she dates other dudes, I just don’t want her to see other dudes when she is supposed to be meeting up with me. I think that is common sense. Any chance for a relationship is over at this point, I will just keep it casual. I also won’t go out of my way for her anymore.

Man, I am really proud that I didn’t flip out last night! FUCK YEAH!

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Dancing Monkey

“…And if I had the chance, I’d ask the world to dance, I was dancing with myself… oh oh uh-oh!” – Billy Idol

Last night, for lack of a better word, was strange.

A shit show, even.

It started at 7PM. People started coming over my house to watch the playoff game and start drinking. This was incredibly early to start, even for us, but because everyone had it in their mind that it was time to start drinking, who was I to say no?

We had a case of Yuengling, and after Baltimore won, King Lear and I watched The Professional before heading out to the bar.

It is now 10PM.

Before we leave, we notice the police parked in the street outside of our apartment. As we are going to King Lear’s car the cop stops us and says, “don’t leave yet, you’re getting a ticket for parking on the sidewalk.” We looked at Lear’s car-it was crooked and parked WELL on the sidewalk. It had been snowing the past two days, and I live on a hill, King Lear had originally parked the car on the sidewalk, but the car slipped, turned to the right, and there we have what looked like a botched parking job.

And so began our weird night.

King Lear had just gotten paid, so he took it upon himself to get us tanked tonight. Upon arrival, we order a Las Vegas Bomb, which is what we normally do, but that was followed by a vodka bomb no more than 15 minutes later.

Oh my, this would be a messy one.

I told Lear to slow down, as I didn’t want to black out tonight. I ended up talking to this one girl who was sitting next to me at the bar, but she was already there with a guy. Plus I didn’t find her attractive.

At one point I sat next to a guy that was more enamored with the Cardinals blowout than the bar. We struck up a conversation, and somehow he got into telling me about his addiction to cocaine. “I have lost friends, my job, gone into debt, everything because of cocaine.” I nodded my head, I didn’t know what to say.

This poor guy, when he realizes that we can get cocaine rather easily, is like can you guys get me an 8-ball? We tell him, “no, we can’t. We’re not going to do that to you.” Then he starts to rationalize to us the reasons why he’d be okay if we got it for him. We insist on telling him no. When he won’t stop, I tell him that he’d have to pay 3x the price for it. That got him to go away pretty quickly.

My thoughts on cocaine and drugs in general is this: when done in moderation there is nothing wrong with doing drugs. They can be fun when used responsibly. When done in excess however, drugs, cocaine especially, quickly become a problem, and this is what happened to our poor guy. I personally don’t care for cocaine all too much. I am more the kind of guy that likes to eat mushrooms and gain some perspective on the world.

The poor guy also told us he can get other pills like adderall, but we shove him off. Yeah, you and everybody else on the planet, buddy.

Later, I talked to a teacher and her friend, who actually worked at a place I used to work. Both of these girls were REALLY cute. I opened by saying, “…and I’ll take a lemon drop, thank you.” The girl actually got the lemon drop. I graciously say thank you, but I tell her that I didn’t really want it. We strike up a good conversation, but once again, I can’t hold the line. No sexual intent, no nothing. Conversation without intent means that you are a dancing monkey.

My roommate and other friends arrive on the scene.

We goof around for a little bit. We play some music on the jukebox, then drink a LOT more to the point where I would say I am pretty wasted. King Lear, on the other hand, is slurring his words, which I’ve NEVER seen him do before. He is a pretty big guy that can throw down with the best of them. He must have been off taking shots when I wasn’t around.

Two black girls are waiting for a drink and I talk to them. One of them pulls the afro pick out of my blazer. “How did you know it was there?” I asked her. She says, “I just know.” Nothing really happens there. They walk off five minutes later. Again, a dancing monkey.

PartyGirl and her friend also come through.

PartyGirl is my best friend that’s a girl. I used to work with her and she dates one of my friends. She is really cool and likes to go out a lot. She is hot and all of her friends are hot-I mean the kind of girls that date professional football players.

Our ever expanding group continues to goof around. My roommate tries to holler at PartyGirl’s friend. He also has a black girl that he talked to like two weeks ago on the other side of the bar. My roommate, who is also my best friend, is the man. He doesn’t really try to get women, but always seems to have pretty hot ones around. I wouldn’t say he’s a cassanova, but he does pretty well for himself.

The teacher and her friend, probably after seeing me talking to Party Girl say hello from across the bar. My social value has gone up. I don’t do anything with it, though.

At the end of the night, I start talking to a redhead and get her number. She actually opened me, she said that she liked my dancing and the fact that I always looked like I was having a good time. I messaged her a few times later that night, but I didn’t cut it off soon enough. She stopped messaging me after awhile. Fuck. Maybe I was too needy?

I messaged her a bit during the football game, she seemed pretty receptive. Sometimes being a Dancing Monkey has its advantages!

Still, at the end of the night, I felt disappointed in myself. Mostly this was because I was drunk. I need to stop being outcome dependent. I also need to meditate consistently, this vastly lessens any outbursts 0f anger or sadness I might have, even while drinking.

I know I said I was going to go out tonight, but when I woke up tonight, I made the decision that I would take it easy. I would much rather have a good night of rest, take care of some stuff around the apartment, and arrive to work in good condition tomororw. I might make it out on Tuesday, I haven’t decided yet.

So what are my sticking points?

– Need to set the sexual intent early in the conversation.

– Need to not be outcome depdendent. Need to curb outbursts of sadness and anger-meditation will help.

– Need to be more aggressive.

The Art of Drunk Texting

“I can say whatever I want, to whoever I want, whenever I want, wherever I want, however I want…” – Eminem

I am not proud of my actions last night.

It started off badly. I lost a sack of herb somewhere in my room and spent an hour plus looking for it. The sack is still at large.

My friend, “King Lear” and I, arrive at the bar at 9pm. I am in great spirits even though I just lost sixty bucks worth of product.

King Lear didn’t have any money so I would be footing the bill tonight. The bar we go to is the one where our friend works and we regularly get a crazy discount. We arrive at 9 P.M.

Nothing of consequence really happens the whole night, we take a LOT of shots. chat with some friends, some girls, but nothing *too* aggressive. There was a girl with HUGE boobs that I wanted to talk to, but didn’t.

Anyways, dejected, I leave paying a $54 tab for the evening. Not too shabby for five hours of drinking.

Except at this point, I get it into my mind that it is time to start drunk texting! Commence the shit show!

I had been listening to Tim’s Flawless Natural program at work over the past week and remembered that he messaged girls that didn’t respond to him with the simple text message: “you are shit.” I was drunk, I thought this was a great idea, so I messaged like three girls with this message. Of course I get messages back that say, “don’t ever talk to me again,” “goodbye, asshole.” Basically, they all tell me that I am a wonderful human being.

I know that I some exchange of words after that, but my recollection is hazy. I can’t look at my sentbox to see what I sent because at some point, I must have realized that I was drunk texting and proceeded to delete all of the girls numbers I was drunk texting. Then I emptied out my sentbox and inbox.

Now, I can’t even say “hey, I’m sorry” because I don’t remember the numbers. I am not sure I would say sorry anyways, I  would probably try to play it off and say I meant to type “you are THE shit.”

Meanwhile, I have inadvertently started off 2009 with a clean slate. Nope, no more girls of 2008, 2009 chicks will be all new baby!

King Lear and I moved onto after hours, where our one boy was dj’ing. This is where I did most of my text messaging. I spent a large portion of the night sitting on a bench and sending them out. Around 3 A.M. my ex-girlfriend, The One, started texting me, and this started a whole new round of texting. This exchange wasn’t mean at all, but it was just simply unnecessary.

I do feel embarrassed, but I’m smiling as I sit here typing this. I am not angry at myself because this is not something I do all of the time. I simply need to learn not to be outcome dependent and have the most fun possible in the present moment, even when I am shitfaced drunk. If I were to see any of these girls in person, I would sincerely apologize, and would understand if they don’t want to talk to me. I would even understand if they hit me or spilled a drink on me, which would be a first for me and hey, I’m all about new experiences!

They are just girls that I was not emotionally attached to. There are many more fish in the sea, and I will just move on.