|
on barhopping — rants — home last changed 28 September 2006 this page contains references to "mature situations" |
if you want a meaningful relationship, and you're hitting the bars and clubs looking for mister/miss right... well, you're just kinda slow, aren't you.
a piece of friendly advice, because you clearly need it. if you want to fool somebody into hanging out with you on a regular basis, don't admit that you like the bars.
smart guys don't want to get involved with girls who enjoy the bar scene. see, smart guys know why girls go to bars. they're smart like that.
you don't go to a bar to enjoy a beer or three. going to a bar for beer is like going bowling so you can wear the funny shoes. bowling is only fun when you get a strike. the free drinks are just a measure of how good your cleavage looks to a cross–eyed blockhead in dim lighting.
you go into the bar in the desperate hope that the Chippendales will just happen to stop by for a couple beers and some witty banter with an exciting girl like yourself. reality check. the majority of the time, it's going to be a bunch of pot–bellied pigs.
so when you tell us that you like "going to the bar and having a good time" it says a couple of things. first, your standards are really low... it doesn't take much to stand out from the unshaven grease monkeys who walk by you every three minutes to cop a feel. any guy who's taken a shower this week could buy you a beer and have you thinking he's generous as well as cute. second, you're desperate. you know there's a chance you might discover tomorrow morning that you sold your shirt to a midget who claimed to be Gabriel and danced on tables for guys you've never met before. and one of the sweaty balding has–beens might be laying right beside you. and you're okay with that.
i'm sure you're a lot of fun to watch after you've put away a tequila and six shots, but nobody wants a call at 2 AM from a rare responsible buddy at the bar to let him know his girlfriend, or his sister, or his daughter is rubbing her assets all over six frat boys and two waitresses.
smart guys know that a girl who actually enjoys the bar will continue going there, even after getting a strike.
you're not fooling anyone. everybody knows why you go to the bar. it's not for the beer; the beer sucks. you head down to the bar when every girl you know has filed a restraining order against your member.
you're desperately hoping that the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders will just happen to stop by for a few rounds and some hardcore horizontal motion with a charming and (don't forget to take the ring off!) eligible stud like yourself. reality check. the majority of the time, it's going to be a couple of old girls who haven't been able to get any decent action for quite some time... for obvious reasons.
still, from the instant the bar appears on the horizon until you wake up with a vile hangover and a foggy recollection of doing the macarena in the parking lot, your every thought is devoted to finding a warm hole. the more alcohol you can get a girl to consume, the more of a man you are. of course... the more you drink, the further your standards fall, until finally any creature with an available orifice will suffice.
and you know this could spell disaster. if you can't prove your manhood to the one halfway–decent looker who stops in for a single drink on the way home from work, you're going to wake up next to the troll who lives in the cellar. you know, the one with a forest of hairy moles on her chin and a perpetual snotball on her upper lip. the only way you can tell she's female is the pair of empty potato sacks that used to be breasts. who knows where that mouth has been.
she's fun to watch though, after you've put away a rum & coke and six shots. too bad all your smart buddies went to college and stopped hanging out in bars, or they could have saved you.
the smart girls find smart guys. which means a smart girl never trusts a penis she finds in a bar.
the bar is raking in money at a rate inversely proportional to the falling IQ of its victims.
bars, and the people who frequent them, are bad investments.