As I observed from a quiet corner of a speakeasy last night there was a particular woman who wanted to leave the bar; her boyfriend was not interested in leaving therefore she explained to him that as a result of his inherent defiance to her request that she was going to instantaneously replace him. While in theory this would have been a harmful defense the bar was barren as it was early. I personally prefer the empty bar because it gives me a chance to decompress and not have any responsibilities to socialize with the idle. Go figure this woman comes up to ME of all people and asks me if I want to dance in this completely empty venue. I decline properly at which time she indicates to me that I appear to be "snobby but its okay!." Perhaps my personification was emulated as such because I was not in the mood to dance with someone that was one glass of white zin away from chunder of a female. Alas, D and I managed to wrangle ourselves away from "chunder girl" and to the bar where there existed a assortment of real estate. While at the bar I ordered a second drink and watched.........
What is interesting about this bar is that the crowd becomes a quick moving current flow of people. At one moment the bar is like the Mojave dessert and the next its packed like the 6 train at rush hour. So as the room begins to fill I watched what I assumed to be a couple(and I will tell you that observing does not come without its issues as you must maintain the most inconspicuous parameters as possible and this is not always manageable. The issue being that most drunken people will ask you ,"whaaatt are you looking at?" or they will take it as you are into them and they will come and try and hit on you.
So there I was a statued lighthouse watching this woman try and dance with a guy whom she obviously consorts with. This man was part of a very large entourage of men and women who were definitely the lifeblood to the establishment. And I will state they were wildly entertaining throughout the night because my cover was blown quickly into the observation and I had very little need for damage control. Getting back to the subject matter however for reasons of supposed disinterest he is very obviously trying to shrug her off and she is not taking the hint. I watch him intently; as he was not too shabby looking either and this girl was desperately pulling out all the stops up to including the "backside swing" which is always a call for help to capture his attention. (If you are not aware of this maneuver its a desperate cry for help. So I suppose I can explain; its when a woman hugs a man from behind throwing her arms right above his naughty bits and squeezes him so tight he is able to determine her cup size from the back. Its a cheap shot but most men go for it because they always look taken aback and turn around; most often girls will then push forward a kiss and then the man is toast....this is a frequent occurrence especially if the man is tall because she is usually misdirected and hits him in the member....sparking blood flow). As this did not appear to work well for her she managed to save her face and walk away. But just as I was taking it all in I was spotted by none other than my uncle!
I was horrified by his presence and felt terribly vulnerable. He started insisting that he was going to protect me for the night and any guy caught talking to me or around me was in big trouble. I enjoyed no part of this interrogatory conversation. I felt exposed and the guy I was observing whom oddly enough had moved considerably closer to my seat than from earlier was keen to what was going on and started to giggle at my expense. So as my cover was blown and my date was commiserating with the greater part of North Providence inhabiting the bar I threw this guy a bone and asked him if was having a laugh at my expense? Naturally I made him nervous because let's just be honest...I make coffee nervous! He who was supposed to be my subject turned about to be the converse. He was observing me! So when I asked him if he was amused by the scene my uncle was causing he stated very clearly that he had seen what I was going through but instead was most interested in me because I was "cute!" This is not a term I would specifically place myself with however accepting this rather complementary suggestion was most fitting. He joined me at the bar and seemed rather interesting. Cute was definitely not the word to describe him rather "dashing" would be suitable......OK let's just get down to brass tax....he was smoking hot!! Instantly we hit it off and I could see that he was a little shy so I proposed asking as such. He then dropped the trout slap which made me squirm in my seat!!!! Apparently he was the designated driver trying to get back in the social circuit because he just had ended a terrible relationship and his heart was in shambles. This is where I want to run the hell out of the bar with my hair on fire. I think, "where do these fucking wounded men find me?" I am not interested in having yet another conversation with a broken man. Where are all the proper blokes who do not want to talk to me about their problems? Why am I a target? Is there a sign hanging on my back stating that the "Doctor Is In?" Was I channeling Lucy circa the Peanuts set? No, but be as it may it would have been terribly curt of me to walk away now that this man has enveloped me in intrigue. Would he fall victim to my blog; you'd better believe it!
So as explained he was in a relationship once he graduated from Syracuse (bonus) and had taken a job in the legal sector however after several infidulous circumstances he had become aware of he decided to break it off; which only benefited him in the end because she ended up encapsulating herself in a pregnancy issue which he was able to walk away from as admittedly their sexual encounters were non existent! A true sign of a failed coupling. As we delved further into the conversation I discovered to what extent of legal activity he was involved in (seeing as Syracuse is a large lawering environment...with perfect example Erika congrats on passing the BAR!!!) I assumed he must be waiting for test results. Not exactly, he was a state trooper (and again I get myself too near to a municipal worker, damn). So he was a trooper in NY and moved back to RI due to the break off and an ill parent. So now he works in RI and is living in East Greenwich and trying to rekindle his consorts. I was rather impressed that he decided not to drink his first night out and found it intriguing that he was so open. I wanted to ask him more questions about the girl that he was with but suddenly discovered she was his cousin and that most of the people he was out with were friends from his more formidable high school years. They were very polite often stopping in to check on him and winking at him from behind my back, then stating how lucky he was to meet me. I thought it was interesting when one of the guys actually leaned in and asked him if he had offered to buy me a drink (which he already had and I naturally declined because of my inherent awkwardness). His friend also came back again for another round of whether or not he has asked me to dance? Again, I declined. The most interesting part was the cousin. She kept trying to interject our conversation so another friend of his let's call him "big blue guy" (because he was a million feet tall and his blue shirt could have been a floor length ball gown on me) stood like a human wall in front of us so that she would not interrupt. The most interesting thing was that I had never witnessed this strength in numbers concept of men talking to women. Because I generally observe from afar I suppose I have been bereft of the opportunity to see just what it is that men do for one another. Its almost animistic! If the friends approve of the girl they stand guard to ensure that the interaction is flawless. Its like a momma cub protecting the den. I found it charming. Was this the normal code of ethics for interaction? I suppose it might be?
So as the night went on even further I felt the conversation went well....until some random dude touched my hair. This is when the night got vivid! The guy behind me touched my hair and told me it was; "the hottest blond locks he had ever seen!" which is total crap as it was a damp night and I was in need of Aveda. His hands grazed my head and I was appalled! I turned around and just as I did the trooper stood up and walked behind my chair. He then asked me if I happened to be acquainted with the guy who pulled my hair. I did not know him so the trooper asked the guy not to touch me again! WOW! This is getting dicey. I was almost scared that the trooper might be too "cop-like" for me but apparently as it was later clarified he knew the guy from someplace else and that he was "a loser."
So getting on with the story I decided that I had enough material...I wanted to leave the bar. The "chunder girl," the "hair puller," etc......until...."the hair puller" dared to mess with D. He touched her pom pom! He then leaned in and told her he had $175k and would like to show her a good time! It was as if you could sense a virtual gong going off in her head....she slapped "hair puller" and we had to leave. It could have gotten much uglier and I was tired anyway. So we hedged for the door. As I walked to my car I noticed the trooper following me, and it made me a bit suspicious so I went for the pepper spray.....just in case!
It was unnecessary because the reason he followed me out was; nice. He asked if he could call me sometime! WOW! What woman could cheat on a man like this. It was like having drinks with Bambi! As to not entirely hurt his feelings I did not give him my number but rather he I. So here I am with this telephone number, a suspicious feeling about the "momma cub" theory, a tingly scalp (from the hair pulling, of course), a very drunk BFF, and a mystified feeling that all my previous comprehension of men was entirely off!
Shit!
