One Thursday night, after working 13 hours, I made the bad decision to go to the sports bar across the parking lot from my office to take advantage of their free drinks between 10 - 11pm. I ordered an IPA, tipped $1 and congratulated myself on my frugality. But then I also realized my folly.
I was alone in a packed bar. There wasn't anywhere to sit and pretend to be content, but I couldn't leave after fourteen seconds. I started walking slowly toward the door. As I did, I saw a couple of sixty-somethings. I butted into their conversation and invited myself to sit in the empty chair at their table. We ended up chatting for two hours and of course the conversation morphed into a therapy session about why a beautiful girl like me doesn't have a boyfriend. I over-shared as usual and they diagnosed me quite correctly as a saboteur.
I was reminded of a few specific incidents in my life...
I was alone in a packed bar. There wasn't anywhere to sit and pretend to be content, but I couldn't leave after fourteen seconds. I started walking slowly toward the door. As I did, I saw a couple of sixty-somethings. I butted into their conversation and invited myself to sit in the empty chair at their table. We ended up chatting for two hours and of course the conversation morphed into a therapy session about why a beautiful girl like me doesn't have a boyfriend. I over-shared as usual and they diagnosed me quite correctly as a saboteur.
I was reminded of a few specific incidents in my life...
- One time, when complimented on my pajama pants by a very attractive man, I told him how just weeks prior I had gotten super sick from an amoeba in Guatemala and pooped them.
- Who could forget this gem of professionalism and man-catching magnitism?
- Another time, another very attractive man told me that he thought I looked great that day. I told him he wouldn't say that if he knew the huge turd I was brewing. And then I drew an imaginary circle around my colon.
- And in a particularly embarrassing-to-admit moment, a cute boy once approached me at a party and when he started getting close, I panicked, pointed to my ear and said "I'm deaf", in the deaf-people accent.
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| I'm going to die alone. |
19 comments:
Here's a girl who doesn't know when to shut up. You make me cry.
So what happens when you encounter a guy at a bar that is equally averse to casual, flirtatious banter? Do you immediately try to outdo each other with poopy stories told through spontaneously imagined sign language? Where does it go from there? Can such an encounter possibly end well? I would love to see, and yet, part of me shudders at the thought.
Side note: I really wish that was what you wore to the sports bar. It is, after all, a somewhat sports-themed outfit.
And after all this, Kady, you are freaked out by the location of the bathroom. I honestly can't figure you out. I hope Mom's tears are from laughing. Mine were.
Chris -- no, she's crying because if I don't get married she's stuck with me every summer for the rest of her life.
Sean -- I haven't met my match yet. It's possibly because I don't really talk to boys at bars. One time I actually screamed and ran away when one approached me on the dance floor. And, I don't leave home if I'm not wearing this outfit.
Im still laughing....
I want to sell tickets to you talking.
By the way you work very close to where Joni and I live and if you work in the normandale towers or go to the caribou there, that is where Joni works.
You could always make those "I'm deaf, but I accept donations" business cards and just pass them out at the bar during free-beer hour(this sounds like the happiest hour! Why don't they give free beer away here?!) or when attractive men approach you.
Ummmm....so then what am I doing wrong?? I DON'T talk about poop EVER (well, almost never...there was the time when I just HAD to tell the other five guys in my group that I had just been to the restroom and pooped a perfect "J". I wish I'd had my phone, I would have taken a picture....anyway, that was the only time) and I get the same results. I might try your Jane Fonda outfit....you may be on to something.
I think I will be laughing about you sharing that you pooped your pants with a man. He was complimenting your PAJAMA PANTS! And you managed to ruin such a perfect set up by telling him you pooped in them. OMG.
However, the turd brewing thing is how I won Mitch's heart so I don't know why that didn't work.
Deaf person accent - I am DYING!
Oh no you won't!! You're actually fabulous. (You do know that, don't you?)
We all have warts, you just happen to enjoy talking about them. And sometimes showing them.
And when that person walks into your life and meets you, s/he is going to be so smitten with you, your sense of fun, and your uninhibited lack of uptight-ness, that any subsequent poop anecdotes will be a breath of fresh air!
In gratitude, wiping the tears from my laughter-crinkled eyes AS USUAL,
Lauren
Roxie said....
The man that holds your heart someday, will be quite fortunate indeed.
I also like to overshare. But not information about my bowel movements. I like to tell them about all my family dysfunction. Just as scary as a big poop.
Kady Kady Kady, this was so funny. The guy who couldn't take the poopy pants? He was no good anyway. Great filter you've developed there. "Turd" is a worse word than "poop" though, so you should reserve that for times when you actually want to be rid of another person. Nobody likes a turd.
Ma- I give you the best advice a lonely spinster can give another... but you have GOT to stop with the whole... deaf thing. It's just really offensive.
This is kind of awesome. But you could probably just omit any discussion of poop and you'd be like 1000% of where you are now, right?
Hobo. There is no "whole deaf thing". I have kept that story secret for 19 years.
Sometimes saying the wrong thing at the wrong time can get you.
For myself, I've always been uptight about how to handle a need to poop when first dating a guy. I hold it in, grin and bear it, all the things that ladies are supposed to do because we don't want to embarrass ourselves in front of a guy. With great discomfort, I will usually wait until I get home where I can finally relax on the toilet and relieve myself after holding it in for so long. I would imagine this same scenario happens to a lot of women especially on first dates. Any ideas on getting over that embarrassment phase?
Poop is funny.
Agreed.
Everybody poops but not everybody poops their pants!
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