The weirdest thing happened to me this week. I got hit on! In a bar. Trust me, this is big news people. I was telling a friend about it and he was all like "Oh, I'm sure that happens all the time", to which I responded "Hey Stevie Wonder, over here. No, it doesn't". I mean, I can't remember the last time I got hit on. In a bar. In general. Anywhere.
I'm not the girl most guys go for. You know, I dress nice, I'm clean-ish, I smell good. But I'm not guy bait. And there are a LOT of girls out there who are guy bait. They're tanned (quite unnaturally in our 10 month Minnesota winters). They're blond. They're Clones. But me, I'm nothing like that. And I'm glad. I don't have porn nails - I bite mine. I'm not a Stick Insect. But oh brother, do I have personality to spare.
Side note.... thinking about the women I'm friends with, I have to say - I am so glad none of them are like that. How boring. How vapid. Some of my dearest friends are unique, quirky, intelligent, spirited women. And are beautiful inside and out, for who they are. Which is not MN Barbie, and I'm glad.
So, anyways, Thursday. Thursday night I'm out with friends at the SLP Tavern and we're hanging out, eating wings, drinking beer. And because no one ever buys me drinks, I saunter up to the bar myself, cash in hand, ready for another Newcastle. And I'm waiting, and waiting, and eventually, without even thinking of it, I do the whole hand on the hip impatient stance. Just then, in the background I hear some hooting and hollering, and something about "You go girl, you put your hands on your hips!!" Amusedly I look around, thinking, who are these guys yelling at? Well, just then I realized, it was me. Imagine my shock! I mean, someone had actually noticed me? Amongst a crowd of tall, super thin, jeans clad, drunkenly stupid women? I was shocked!
So what did I do? I went over there of course, and was like "Are you guys yelling at me?", which of course came off more Robert DeNiro scary than cute & flirty. But I struck up a conversation (something I am good at), and we talked and before I knew it, they had bought me a beer. I saved $5.
Anyways, that was that. I went back to my table, cheerful and exhilarated and continued to hang out with my guy friends - something I'm painfully good at, though it gets me nowhere in life. But the next day I woke up with renewed confidence and a feeling of being, well, noticeable. Life looked a little rosier, on Friday!
That, however, does not quite segue into the reason for the title of this blog post. Which is basically to say that even though I got hit on once in all of 2008 & what's present of 2009 combined, I still can't get a date to save my life.
My friends tell me to try the whole online thing. Been there, done that. Done that a little recently as a matter of fact. Last year, in what I thought was a spirit of adventure, I updated my profile information for a dating service I was subscribed to, but never used. I met three guys who seemed interesting. One I met, and we were not even close to compatible, even if there wasn't about a 1 foot height advantage on my side. The second one was completely fascinating and funny, but then he got busy with work and we still haven't met.
The last one was really sweet and funny, and has a very interesting job, and loves Marx Brothers movies, and I thought we might hit it off. As we started talking, he seemed very interested and he kept telling me that he couldn't get over the fact that I knew all the pop culture references he was making AND I was cute. I was very, very flattered.
We were supposed to go out on a date. A Saturday night date, nonetheless (which my friend Brandon assures me is proof positive a guy is interested, if he schedules for Saturday night). But then something came up, (an emergency) at the last minute, and I had to ask for a rain check. I haven't heard from him since. I shot him an email, but never got a response.
Well then tonight, I happened to notice him online. So, I IM'd him and asked him what had happened. I asked if he just lost touch, or if he lost interest. He said he didn't think it was a good idea for us to reconnect. I replied with an "OK, I can respect that. But I think I at least deserve to know why."
To which, get this, he said ............... I was just too old. He thought I was 30. But then he realized I am 33. And now all of a sudden he's just not interested. Not even a sorry, or a have a good life. Just, "I thought you were 30, and then I realized you're 33. Goodbye."
I mean, come on! Really? Because that three year differential just makes all the difference, right?? Puhleeze!!
Well, I guess in the end it's true to say that I wouldn't want to date a guy that stupid or shallow. But it only goes to show - a girl can get hit on in a bar, once in a blue moon, but that doesn't mean she can get a date. Oh, oops, did I say girl? I meant grandma.
