Have you honestly ever known a woman to have met the man of her dreams or the possibility of finding the man of her dreams at a bar/club thingy? I can honestly say that I haven't. Now that's not to say that it isn't a possibility and I am sure there a number of justifiable cases out there that will no doubt prove me wrong in that assumption, HOWEVER, I am going off of my own stats here and will admit that every man that I have met at a club/bar thingy has been a real D-Bag. I honestly don't know why I even remotely think that I will find a man of the quality in which I desire there. Especially when its 1245 in the morning and all the ladies in attendance are usually a little more than tipsy, barely dressed and are hovering on a man whom they are hoping is the man of their dreams. Face it....we all think it. We all deep down hope that tonight could potentially be the night that we find the "one". Regardless of where we are or are going. Because lets face it, this is the best place and scene to meet a man, right?
As I have this momentary lapse of judgement and agree to meet a friend at one of these bar/club thingys, I walk into it fully knowing that I am just here to have fun, dance a little, have a drink or 2 and that's it! (Secretly on the inside though, I am desperately hoping that the "one" will be there). So, as we are chatting as girls do in the corner of the place scoping it out for any potential prospects and making ourselves be fully open to anyone that could possibly be the "one", my friend scopes out a prospect for me. "Oh, there you go Sheri, he's just your type!" I look over and at first glance am thinking, nope, I don't think so. Before I can spit the words out of my mouth to back my claim that he isn't such my type. She is doing the come hither finger motion. He looks at her and points at his chest and mouths "Me?" She shakes her head. As he strolls up, she says, "Hi, this is my friend Sheri." And then she proceeds to walk away. Son of a biscuit! Now I am engrossed in a conversation with this guy that is about 6 inches shorter than me, has slicked back hair with enough gel in it to have sustained the Jersey kids for a complete season and is dressed like a gang member from my high school. Dickie shorts that look like pants because they go down to his ankle, white T-shirt and good 'ol Chuck Taylors .
Wow! Converse? Interesting choice of clothing I must say for a bar/club thingy. As the conversation continues, it is quite evident that he is absurdly drunk. Why wouldn't he be really? But insanely enough he was speaking intelligently and telling me all the great things about himself. The usual deal. He is in the military, he is in charge of people, essentially he was showing off his portfolio. The best of the best. Now I never put myself out there in these sort of environments because one can never be too careful, so I continued to listen to his stories. When the story ended, I began to ask random questions about his "portfolio". See the thing is, I love it when men assume that I have no idea what they are talking about. That I have no clue what goes on in their little world. Well, when I started asking questions, he was taken back a little bit because I had just beat him at his own game. (By the way, what's with the games anyway, are we still in 8th grade?) Game, set, match buddy. I win. I have seen and dealt with too many of your type to not have figured it out.
I thought that this was going to be the end of "Chuck". But turns out, the game wasn't quite over. Instead of me winning the game making it quite obvious that I was in no way interested and even telling him so, I guess he thought I still was. Chuck and his converse walked right up to me and plainly asked "So, are you taking me home tonight?" Hmmm....how can I put this tactfully? Screw it, there is no tactful way for this guy. No Chuck, I will not be taking you home tonight, nor will I be answering your calls or texts (I am still to this day not sure why I even gave this D-Bag my number), but what I will be doing is punching you in the face if you don't take a step back from me at this very moment. I have been more than patient with you and have told you on more than one occasion that I am not interested. But that doesn't seem to work for you. Chuck started pleading with me, yes pleading! Never has this happened before. EVER!
2AM and the place is shutting down. Time for me to head home and chalk this one up on my too good to have happened list. I couldn't believe it really. Chuck did text me all the way up until 430 AM. Then again the following couple of days. Chuck did finally understand that I have a little more class than that. While I appreciate his bluntness and forwardness which is hard to find these days, he just went about it the wrong way.
I do wish Chuck the best and who knows, maybe he will find the woman of his dreams in a bar/club thingy. But I do hope that he at least puts more grown up shoes on.
With love,
Sheri
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