We set out for the most hipster-infested bar we’ve found in our little college town last night. It’s on the downtown square and sits above a rather nasty hole-in-the-wall bar where grunge music pours out of the door every time it’s opened. Anyway, head upstairs and you find the hipster cave. And we sat around waiting for our people to arrive. My dear friend, Mr. H, whom I’ve known forever–we seriously can’t remember a time we haven’t known each other–came out, which was great because I haven’t seen him in forever. Our nutty Rose joined us, as did our roommate Master I (that’s an “i”, not a Roman numeral).
Mr. H needed relationship advice and just needed to generally get out of the house and away from his research. Rose shared with us a handwritten note she’d received from a friend (who writes and mails notes anymore? It was cute!), and Master I and I played a swift game of chess–because the hipster den was just the sort of place to have chess sets on tables randomly scattered about.
Anyway, we met people and played games, as is customary when MW2 and I hit the town, and we met a guy we’ll call Keith. So, Keith seems alright and eventually he and Master I got to chatting, but we decided around midnight that it was time to move on. Mr. H had to go home and go to bed as he had to be a grown up the next morning, and we were just pretty bored with the waning crowd.
So, off we go to The H. The H is our favorite hangout: they don’t card us at the door, we know all the cocktail waitresses, and they tend to give us the –ahem–stronger drinks. Well, guess who shows up? Keith. And his group of misfits.
And he starts hitting on one of our friends. So much so that I’m embarrassed for Keith’s wife. MW2 and I had to tell him “No” every time he asked to switch seats with us to get closer to our friend–who is married and very uninterested in any sort of advances from Keith. And when I say every time, I mean the dude tried it five or six times over the course of like an hour. I’ve seen this kind of thing before in Dating Land, but never in such an overtly pushy way, and never by a man whose wife was sitting right next to him as he hit on another married woman. He kept telling our friend how lucky her husband is, and he kept wanting to set up times to meet again. And every single time, the answer was the same: No.
People, seriously, when a group of friends continually stiff-arms you when it comes to their friend, take the hint and know when to stop!
It’s already an invaluable resource and I’m just into the first few chapters. Basically, this is me–as a writer–recommending it to you–you know, as a writer. It’s an easy read and is quite entertaining, actually.
