My IT Nightmare

Last night was the worst.

Getting to leave the house for the first time in almost a week was the perfect reward for me to have a good time. All I wanted to do was to meet some cute bachelors and potentially getting some phone numbers. I had all of my tools and strategies loaded and ready to fire. I figured my writing notebook would seem appropriate since I’m currently brainstorming ideas for my new short story and bring it with since I could also people watch while completing my man mission, a.k.a MMM.  The hair and make-up didn’t make me look like a clown.  The super extra padded push-up strapless bra, Check. Tight white t-shirt showing off my midriff, Check. Include low ride jeans and new boots, Look Completed. I was ready to go out, guns blazing, and determined to have a guy flirt with me at the bar. I approached the bartender and asked for a whiskey sour and positioned my chair at a slight angle, in order for me to circulate the whole room. Laid down my notebook, flipped my hair; bring it on boys.

Within five minutes being in there, a guy turned to me and started to ask me about what I was writing down. Wow, I can’t believe that worked! And he’s pretty cute. Granted, he had a few beers in him but that couldn’t hurt my chances…or so I thought. He seemed intrigued and pushed more questions about who I’m writing to, if I was looking to get published, and why I want to write. Our conversation continued with him asking me about the subject matter I was thinking about writing. I told him about my new writing project about people’s concepts and fears about death. Which was probably the wrong thing to say because he went on the biggest emotional rant I had ever witnessed by any male at any public setting. He preached about his non-religious views, screaming “What the fuck God? Why wasn’t it me who died?” This guy has to be out of his mind, how do I get out of this hell hole? I gave pleading looks to the female bartender and looking for the escape button. He brought up his profession as an IT. I have the worst luck with those guys. This went on until he burst out the fact that he went to his best friend’s 5 year old son’s funeral last week.

I couldn’t believe what I brought onto myself. His eyes were tearing up every time he mentioned that little boy, his best friend, and how awful he would feel if that happened to his own newborn son. He made me feel so uncomfortable, saying horrible things like “If it happened me, I would be in here, drinking my life away until I didn’t want to leave anymore.” Having a recovering alcoholic for a mother, I was extremely bothered by that comment. I couldn’t look him directly in the face after that and thought Please just leave, go home to your baby boy and stop terrorizing the  young women at this bar. At least he commented my writing ability and thought it was good idea. Since he couldn’t wrap his mind around the thought of death happening. By the time of his long overdue exit, both bartenders kept apologizing to me about what they described as the worst they had seen all night. I felt so special after hearing that.

Was I looking to score? Yes.

Was I hoping to run into a man like that? No.

Did I get better ideas about my short story? Shamefully, yes.

I can only hope that I have better luck next time. Keep calm and pray to the dating Gods that they can find a better match. For now, I just have ideas that I need to develop into actual fiction.


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