lobsterchick's Diaryland Diary

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Hot Stuff, Baby, This Evenin'

Men can smell "singleness."

Quotes because it's not that I'm not single anymore; I mean, I'm not married, I just have a boyfriend. But they know I'm not available, and that makes them hit on me. Hard.

First is the Event Staff guy at work. We only have event staff for concerts, and they work as like, patter-downers and crowd control and such. This guy first started coming on to me at the Pearl Jam concert a couple of weeks ago, and then he worked again, for Tony Bennett. Apparently old people can get rowdy. But I wasn't exactly looking for this character, because I mean, I don't really give a crap, but also, who thinks the strongarms need to be called for the classic crooner concerts?

Anywho, he waves me down as I cross the lobby to my bar, and I wave weakly back, and he follows me.

"Hi," he says, "how are you?"

"Fine," I say back, "how are you?"

And then, get this, he says, "Better, now."

Ahahahahahahahaha!

What a suave character.

So then he proceeds to spend the evening trying to chat me up while I put as much distance between him and me as possible. Fun fun!

Then, the Ketchup Guy at the bar.

I didn't pay a whole lot of attention to Ketchup Guy, because I thought he had a girlfriend (and, you know, I have a boyfriend, but I didn't actually realize he was flirting with me, etc., oh forget it), but she left with some other people, and he disappeared.

At which point, my and Colleen's attentions turned to... the Neo-Nazi next to her. In my defense, when I suggested that she make out with him, I thought the Rudolf Hess "I Regret Nothing" T-shirt was a joke. A hilarious, hilarious Nazi joke. But then the new skinhead initiate came over to talk to us and explained that he was sort of "pledging" the skinheads, as one would a fraternity.

I was shocked, and a little scared to just dismiss them out of hand. I mean, I felt like saying, "I'm Jewish," but then next thing you know, I'm dead on the parking lot, and would it have been worth it just to make the point?

So one of the other guys, the one in the Hess t-shirt, starts chatting me up. The worst part of it was that he was super nice and really cute. Like, nice and cute enough for Colleen to consider following him to a 3 o'clock bar (even though, not to be bitchy, he was hitting on me). I told her I'd take her if she wanted me to, but that I was over my Neo-Nazi Everyone-Not-White-Sucks phase (kidding, please don't write; I was never in that phase). As always, she waffled, and as I sat and listened to her waffling, we noticed this very ugly guy staring at us.

I hardly ever classify people as just outright Ugly, but for rillz, you guys, it was hard to look at. I made some bitchy comment to Colleen, we laughed, and he caught my eye and started laughing along. Like, "Boy, you're right! I'm Ugggggly!"

We were nearing closing time at this point, so we avoided a potentially Ugly situation. As we were hightailing it out, Ketchup Guy reappeared and was all upset that we were leaving. Like, sure, he'd been gone for 3 hours, but whatever. As we hightailed it out of there, he told me he liked my tits. That was nice.

As we walked past the giant window, he motioned for us to come back in, and I gave him a vague "my friend wants to make out with you" interpretive dance. Then Colleen made me sit on the curb and wait for him to come out, but then my toes got frostbite and snapped off, so it was time to go.

See? Guys love me as long as I have no earthly interest in them. If I had wanted to, I could have made out with any of those guys last night. I may have done it in the interest of an anthropological experiment (you know, for the advancement of science), but I would never do that to Boy. Unless I were on The Real World, but then I'd be contractually obligated.

12:21 AM - 18 October 2004

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