How not to pick up women

Following hot on the tails of a disastrous shopping trek (see previous post), my late-running evening plans provided much continued amusement with the opposite sex.

Begin scene (enter heroine at friend #1’s house almost two hours late): 

Friend #2: “Well it’s about time!” 

Heroine: “Yes well, that is because [name withheld] was an hour and a half late picking me up for what was definitely our last date...ever.”

I include this scene now because of its bearing so much importance further on in our story, and because it demonstrates the seamlessness of my adventures of this past weekend.In the room I have just entered, loudly announcing my failed date, are four guys whom I have never met. Oops. Must remember the filter. 

Within seconds of my arrival, one guy in particular is fast injecting himself into my conversations. He’s drunk. So you know, whatever, he’s having fun, he’s friendly, he’s a bit loud, but he seems alright. Even the fact that he immediately starts proclaiming his deep admiration for Nickelback isn’t worrying me too much (and if you’ve even an inkling of how I feel about Nickelback and other bands of their genre, you know how tolerant I’m being).

From the house I head with Friend #1 (F1) to see friend #4 (F4) play in a band while friends #2 (F2) and #3 (F3) head home. Arrive at club. Nickelback Fan (NF) is drinking more and talking nonsense to myself and F1 while band prepares.

Me: “I think the last time I was here was to see Joel Plaskett.”

NF: “But his music is so boring!” (And let's remember this guy was waxing poetic about Nickelback in the last hour)

Me: “Well, I disagree, but everyone is entitled to an opinion.”

NF: “My opinion is more important.”

Me: “Okay. I guess to you it should be.”

NF: “Don’t you think it’s better when people have strong opinions about music?”

I am a notorious music snob. Well, I don’t think so, but I’ve been told I am more than once. So I feel like I’m someone with strong opinions on music. But I am not about to argue the merits of Joel Plaskett with someone who loves Nickelback. Instead I look away and pretend to be occupied watching the band set up.

As F1 heads to the bar for a round, NF asks if I’m with F1. Sensing where this is going I say, “Always,” as we do hang out a fair bit. It’s not a lie, really. 

NF is aghast, “Really?” with scrunched up face. “You and him?”

What NF fails to realise is how far F1 ranks above NF on a scale, any scale, and even worse is how he is insulting F1, one of my closest friends. Right. To. My. Face.I sigh. 

Me: “We’re not dating if that’s what you’re asking.” 

NF: “Oh. Good. Would you like to go for a drink sometime then?”

I would like to digress here a bit. Don’t ask women out for “sometime”. You don’t sound like you’re very interested in making real plans. “Next weekend” would have been good. It implies that you have an idea that you really would like to see them in the near future. 

Second, don’t ask women out when you’re off your face. It’s insulting. We don’t know if you really mean it or if it’s the beer, and we don’t even know if you’ll remember. Now, back to our story...

Me: “I’m actually seeing someone.” 

NF: “Right, but I heard you say earlier that it’s not going very well.”

Crap. Foot in mouth. He was there when I made my grand, whingeing entrance. Really need to work on that filter. I sigh again. 

Me: “No, someone else. I knew that one was in the toilet and I already started seeing someone else and I am really not interested in getting involved with another someone else at this point.” 

NF: “Is it because I’m not good looking enough for you?”

Here, thankfully, we were interrupted. The guy was not unattractive. Unfortunately he also couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He might have been more attractive if he had. But I didn’t want to continue the discussion as I was worried I might lose my patience and be a little too honest with him. Although in hindsight, he may have benefited from it.

Not long after though...

NF: “I was just telling your friend [F1] that the two interesting people from his house came here.”

Me: “What?” 

NF: “Those other two people, they were boring. The couple.” 

Me: “You do realise that the woman you just insulted is one of my best friends?” 

NF: “That couple was so boring!” 

Because apparently reiterating his loathing for someone I’ve just said is one of my best friends seemed like the way to go. Sigh. 

Me: “They’re not a couple.”

Why do I even bother? Why am I continuing to have this conversation?

NF: “Oh they’re a couple.”

Me: “Yes well, you probably know my friends better than I.”

NF: “What?”

At this point, if he hadn’t decided to go out for a smoke I might have actually punched him for being such a cocky shit. 

Red flags: 

• He has insulted my taste in music (I know many of you are gasping at the egregious overstep he’s made here)
• He has insulted not one, but two of my friends. 
• He’s self-righteous enough to make claims about people he doesn’t know to people who know them. 
• He’s drunk. 
• He smokes. 
• He’s unemployed. 
• In one night he has claimed he is moving to Texas and Louisiana any day now (but he wants to go for a drink). 
• He’s from Windsor (that does so count). 
• Oh, did I mention he’s friends with the smuggest of my exes? In fact, he appears to be trying to emulate him.

For the rest of the night I was treated to small remarks here and there. 

“Oh, is that why you don’t want to go out with me?”“You’re breaking my heart.”“Well, now that you’ve already said, ‘no,’ it doesn’t matter what I say.” (This last one after a remark about being an alcoholic – add to red flags.)

And apparently he won’t stop moaning to F1 and F4 about my turning him down. He’s decided he’s in love with me and that I’ve ruined his life, all in the span of four hours. 

On the one hand, I guess it’s flattering that someone was that offended by my turning him down. 

And I guess I can’t complain that no one asks me out. 

But really? This is what’s out there for me? These are my options? Maybe this is reason enough for me to get the confidence up to talk to guys I would like to have ask me out. 

Maybe the lesson here was a karmic, “Okay, you want guys slobbering all over you? Well here, this is what those slobbering guys are like.” 

Point taken, universe. No right to bitch and moan when I am not particularly taking an active role in creating opportunities for myself. But thanks for the laughs.