Lessons learned from the drunk guy at the end of the bar
OtherGus and I were supposed to meet some former colleagues out for a drink last night. Being the annoyingly punctual person I am, I was right on time and the first one there. After scanning the bar for my friends, I took the only open seat I could find, next to two older, visibly drunk, men.
I saw them check me out as I sat down. I ignored them. But when one of them left some cash and headed for the door, the other one turned his full attention to me.
"You waitin fer Misther Wonderfull?" he slurred.
"Nope, meeting some old work pals," I told him with a sigh, realizing I was sucked in a probably wouldn't be able to get away from him.
How right I was. Before the other ladies showed up, he subjected me a lecture on how people don't actually use their college degrees, numerous repeated questions, and a few cheesy compliments. After they arrived--well, it got even worse.
At first he realized we were "catching up" and kept to himself. But then either he couldn't resist, or that half-full glass of Makers was cheering him on.
"I'm blind!" he said, sheilding his eyes from one of the girl's engagement rings. (After which I noticed our other newlywed friend had carefully concealed her left hand in her right. Smart girl.) We indulged him for a few minutes of harmless banter, which included a brief lecture on the value of relationships, repeated questions, and the cheesy compliments.
When OtherGus finally arrived, we again tried to talk amongst ourselves, but our location was not conducive to making a circle for four. Our drunken Pal, Mark, picked off poor Deidre, who was too polite to ignore him. Every time we tried to engage her in the conversation again, he would cut her off, getting her attention back to him again.
When there was a break in our conversaion, he loudly accused us of being a coven of witches. At first, OtherGus was the leader; then after I assumed a perch on a shelf and was sitting higher than the others, I suddenly became the leader.
"You girlsss scare me to deathh!" he said, wagging his finger. Well, actually, I can be pretty frightening at the end of a long day.
But I thought I'd share with you some of Mark's wit and wisdom:
On beautiful women: "You have such a beautiful face, it's all I can look at. I don't know if you're big or flat chested, if you have no waist or a gigantic behind."
On enduring beauty: "After all your contemporaries have turned to salt, you will still be beautiful."
On why he would use such lines: "I'm not trying to pick you up. Just telling the truth."
On how to have a great relationship: "You need to let your man that he is the luckiest guy in the world."
And: "You need to go home and fuck his brains out every night."
And that's to say nothing of the wisdom he shared with Deidre, who was cornered into talking to him for most of the evening.
Regardless, here's to the drunk man at the end of the bar, whatever bar that may be. Even when annoying, he's good for a chuckle and a funny story the next day.
I saw them check me out as I sat down. I ignored them. But when one of them left some cash and headed for the door, the other one turned his full attention to me.
"You waitin fer Misther Wonderfull?" he slurred.
"Nope, meeting some old work pals," I told him with a sigh, realizing I was sucked in a probably wouldn't be able to get away from him.
How right I was. Before the other ladies showed up, he subjected me a lecture on how people don't actually use their college degrees, numerous repeated questions, and a few cheesy compliments. After they arrived--well, it got even worse.
At first he realized we were "catching up" and kept to himself. But then either he couldn't resist, or that half-full glass of Makers was cheering him on.
"I'm blind!" he said, sheilding his eyes from one of the girl's engagement rings. (After which I noticed our other newlywed friend had carefully concealed her left hand in her right. Smart girl.) We indulged him for a few minutes of harmless banter, which included a brief lecture on the value of relationships, repeated questions, and the cheesy compliments.
When OtherGus finally arrived, we again tried to talk amongst ourselves, but our location was not conducive to making a circle for four. Our drunken Pal, Mark, picked off poor Deidre, who was too polite to ignore him. Every time we tried to engage her in the conversation again, he would cut her off, getting her attention back to him again.
When there was a break in our conversaion, he loudly accused us of being a coven of witches. At first, OtherGus was the leader; then after I assumed a perch on a shelf and was sitting higher than the others, I suddenly became the leader.
"You girlsss scare me to deathh!" he said, wagging his finger. Well, actually, I can be pretty frightening at the end of a long day.
But I thought I'd share with you some of Mark's wit and wisdom:
On beautiful women: "You have such a beautiful face, it's all I can look at. I don't know if you're big or flat chested, if you have no waist or a gigantic behind."
On enduring beauty: "After all your contemporaries have turned to salt, you will still be beautiful."
On why he would use such lines: "I'm not trying to pick you up. Just telling the truth."
On how to have a great relationship: "You need to let your man that he is the luckiest guy in the world."
And: "You need to go home and fuck his brains out every night."
And that's to say nothing of the wisdom he shared with Deidre, who was cornered into talking to him for most of the evening.
Regardless, here's to the drunk man at the end of the bar, whatever bar that may be. Even when annoying, he's good for a chuckle and a funny story the next day.
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