I came home fuming tonight. Fuming and with my mind spouting a bunch of different things to say to a guy I had the oh so great pleasure of meeting (not even) tonight.
Let me start this off by saying today was on of my days off.
Tonight I decided to go out with a friend of mine who is a awesome dude and have some fun, see the city (aka downtown) and see how most of Portland lives.
Here are a couple of facts about me...
1) I rarely go out
2) I rarely drink
3) When I do go out I usually end up verbally abusing at least one stranger... generally male
4) When I do go out I end up turing down at least one dude, generally because they come at me with sweet lines like "does the carpet match the drapes" or something a little less obvious but really just words as a form to get me into bed without figuring out who I am as a person.
5) I don't do random hookups. I know many, many girls say that but I'm telling the truth. Ask most of my guy friends, they'll sadly tell you it's true.
Okay, so now that we've covered the beginning facts I'll tell you about my night, I'll probably tell you about last night's douche as well. Oh joy.
Tonight, started at my first club, saw a couple of my lady friends (who I had been hanging out with maybe an hour earlier... I'm lucky and have sexy lady friends, you really should be jealous), got talked into a drink (shot kinda) and watched a couple of stage sets.
Sidenote... I was not about to take a straight shot, one because I refuse, two because I have a sore throat and don't need to get wasted and hate life tomorrow... I take care of myself. So I decided instead on a redheaded slut. I'm now calling them the "not as good as I remembered." Don't assume this means redheads aren't as good as you remember, we are, just not the drink.
Back to my story... saw a couple of stage sets and headed downtown to a bar where an ex sex buddy (who I wanted more from) works. I did not choose this place and have refused to go near it since ex sex buddy who I will call "Don't Take Them Home #2" (and will probably post about eventually) decided his cheating ex girlfriend would be a better choice than me...
But tonight I was looking amazing, with clothes on no less, and I figured, if I saw him or any of his work buddies I'd get to silently rub it in that I am so much hotter than his ex (again ex) and any other girl he decided to bang while we were dating but not dating.
We get there, I see a friend of his but remember he doesn't really work on Sundays which is a relief and a let down at the same time. Me and my friend get our drinks and sit down with his friends at a table and listen to some music and talk. When we got our drinks coworker of "don't take them home #2" comes up, says hey, introduces himself to my friend (good because I fucking forgot his name... but let's be real, he's cuter than DTTH#2) and then we go off.
Soon at the table next to us I see a guy with a "This is what a Feminist looks like" shirt on. Well, that's a cheap ploy to get laid asshole. Seriously, you are in an Irish pub where it's all frat boys even though we don't have any REAL frats in Portland, and you look like you belong with the tools and you are wearing a Feminist shirt.
My friend (who's a dude) and I start talking about all the things I could go up and ask Mr. Feminist about to see if he even knew what we were talking about. Like his thoughts on Andrea Dworkin and Nina Hartley and his views of porn and what type of feminist he was. Etc Etc.
I didn't say anything to this dude because I was a tad tipsy off my one drink but had I been more sound of eye (hard to explain but I feel like I need to open my eyes real big when I'm tipsy to see things clearly) I might have challenged his shirt.
We leave that place after sweet potato fries and my patron margarita (what I drink when I drink) and try to get a donut but the line is forever long and I don't wait that long for donuts. We go back to the first club and that's where I meet the target of my loathing.
He comes in with his super cool (sarcasm) bike helmet and worn leather jacket and sets the helmet on the counter and the jacket on a stool. He says something about ordering a drink and the bartender says she has stopped serving shots and can only serve certain things on ice or beer. She gets him a beer and the tap is out right before it fills the glass. She explains this to him and he says "so you're telling me you're just that much off from the top" or something in a condescending tone and waves it off like it's no big deal. She says it's on her. He takes a second then pulls out a twenty and a five and throws them on the counter and she asks if he needs ones, he says yes. She throws him a bundle (which is $25). He says oh, throws out 5 ones, one at a time and then turns away from the bar while still leaning on it.
One of the dancers, already dressed in street clothes was standing by me and he turns to her and starts a conversation somehow. He realizes she had been working and asks her what she spends her money on.
strike one.
What the fuck ass hole, like it's any of your business. I didn't like your tone starting out, now you're using that same tone to ask what she spends her money on like she's a social experiment? Fuck you.
He then asks if she stockpiles it.
She says she isn't ballin' like that to which he makes some other asshole comment and she says
"clearly he doesn't know the plight of the Portland stripper" to which I agree.
She then says she spends it on school and her daughter and he raises his eyebrows when he says
"oh school?" (strike two)
I learn what she's going to school for and am excited while he then asks something about her daughter. Oh yes, what her name is.
I'll admit, it's not the most common name in the world but if you ask her why she named her daughter that it will make more sense.
He says "Oh, interesting" (strike three) and I look to my friend on my other side and say in a perfectly normal tone "I don't like him"and look forward.
Now normally people are out by strike three but lucky for you this story continues on.
He looks at the money in his hand and hands her like half. (So many $10) She says thanks and walks off.
He takes the rest of his money, looks at me and my friends and throws it at us saying we can have the rest of it.
Strike mother fucking four you cocky piece of shit
While I would normally take it and tell him he's a bastard, I wasn't working and it fell to the ground so he picked it up. I realize now he was right under my feet and I could have given him a swift kick and felt a whole lot better but hindsight is 20/20.
He stands up and I tell him he should probably give it to the girl on stage. He says he might go make it rain.
Strike five.
Oh really champ? You're going to make it rain with $10? No, that's not making it rain. Again the plight of the Portland stripper. Douche bags like you that thing 1) we roll in the hundies 2) but they also think making it rain doesn't take much.
Friend and I are just sitting nicely at the bar and once the set is over (it was the last set of the night) the jackass comes back for his flight helmet and jacket (motorcycle jacket and helmet) and proceeds to talk to us some more.
I give him a really blank, you're a piece of shit, look while he says something to my friend about someone shrugging their shoulders side to side and grabbing there crotch and how there is a lack of vigilance these days. I'm not sure the word fit in what he was trying to say but he continued either way.
There was a silence for maybe a minute and then he looks at me and asks "are you bitter?" or something close. I say, "excuse me" while looking him in the face and giving him a "you don't mean shit" look (I do them well, even my mother thinks so) and he says "you're bitter and upset about something."
This is what may have come out of my mouth if my friend hadn't asked him to drop it and leave us alone:
Me? Bitter? No sir, just uninspired by your conversation.
Wait...Yes, I'm bitter... I'm bitter that people like you exist and think you can talk to people like me. You come into strip clubs because ladies outside of here won't deal with your shit without alcohol. You act like you're a high roller but bitch you brought a $20 out and have the personality of a shit fuck. You probably also have a small dick OR your dick size is irrelevant and you just don't know how to please a woman.
Pardon my face but I'm just trying to figure out how guys like you get laid. You must really rely on an absurd level of stupidity or the aforementioned alcohol.
Does being that condescending make you feel better about yourself?
We're not something to be studied, strippers going to school aren't quaint. If you knew the word you probably would have said it but don't worry, you didn't have to your expression and body language said it for you.
Do you know what a clit is? Have you been successful with a woman? An attractive one with more than 5 braincells I mean... without getting her drunk? Did she orgasm when you took her to bed?
No, don't answer that, it was rhetorical, I know she didn't.
Don't worry, you don't have to try and convince me... I've seen enough faked orgasms, you wouldn't know the difference.
I'll stop my rant there...
I was fuming inwardly as I said goodbye to my friend and got in my car.
Dipshit on the motorcycle had decided to hang out in the parking lot until we came out and he went to leave but then saw me in my car and tried to pull up beside me to which I threw my car in reverse and drove away. I even took a side street so this a-hole couldn't follow me to "apologize" or whatever it is those kind of guys think they are doing when the try to get me to feel better about them as people as well as making themselves feel better about why I dismissed what they had to say as trivial and stupid.
As I got closer to home I saw a guy with a shirt and jacket on a motorcycle that looked uncannily like that dudes but I hope I was just being silly and it was someone else. But really how many people are out on motorcycles at 2:15am?
Soooo, that was the douche bag of the night.
I might save last night's douche bag for another time. I want to separate them.
-D
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