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.


Ken Doll, Man, Boy

Typically, every year at Bradley for Halloween festivities, there has always been a story to be remembered. From my freshman year, being at Cam’s Bar with a bunch of greasy, beer filled frat guys who were only picking up female that looked just intoxicated enough to take them home. My first year at college had been a test of sanity between me and my roommate, Sara. Her friend/our next door neighbor , Ashley H., invited me to come with and thought everyone would have a great time. I was just happy that I was invited out at what I thought was a cool party. We all had fun…everyone except Sara;  it wasn’t anyone’s fault my model looking, man-eating roommate disappears with one guy and comes back too wasted on those vodka cranberries. Every one of us did their part to take care of her, but Sara was a lost cause.

To my junior year, finally being legal and going out to the bars and clubs for the first time. First time ever going as a “slut” for Halloween and having no shame walking down the street in my bar maid costume. The parties at U of I were some of the craziest scenes from a college movie that got left on the cutting room floor. My friends, Kayla and Kai, and I went out there for the Halloween weekend, just to see what the fuss was about. We had no idea it involved Kayla being way too drunk to walk down stairs and stand outside to wait for a cab. On Halloween night that year, I had left my boyfriend at home on while I went out with some friends from 1015 St. James and cast of Vagina Monologues at Diesel. At that time, my boyfriend and I were in a really good place; trusting each other, having fun with each others company, and loving one another without question. I couldn’t ask for a better night out, except for my 21st birthday that was two weeks earlier. It was close to perfection.

On this year, the actual day of Halloween itself this year was epic. I wouldn’t complain about being woken up to by Marc, going on a burn cruise, grabbing lunch, and seeing Polish Ambassador perform live again for the second year in a row (this time last year actually). Thursday night reminded me of the crazy and wild Liz that use to roam freely last year without thinking about authority or consequences for any of my actions. But last night’s festivities went slightly different. With broke seniors trying to find ourselves a good time, we strapped up every nickel and dime for cheap champagne and rum. To sum up the major parts of my night, I composed the people who affect the outlook of my last Halloween as a college student.

Preston– Ken Doll, he was a total babe, doesn’t smoke cigarettes. 18 though, freshman at Bradley…but sooo gorgeous. I met him last night and the things that turned me on about him were those deep, dreamy blue eyes, his voice was soft, his laughter was adorable, and his face was clean and handsome. I wish I asked for his number, that would have been so cool if I did that.

Jamar– Man, he has helped me every step of the way with figuring out how to handle the Lyndsey situation, where she owed me $80. He gave me clear guided advice on what to do to not piss her off and drank with me through the mimosas. Jamar has been one of my best friends since freshman year of college and I don’t think I have a better friend than him since being a young adult.

Max– Boy, he always will be to me. Nothing more, nothing less, just the jerk who kinda dumped me when I had feelings for him. He didn’t do anything that unusual last night. We’re just friends and it’s great because now we’re in a good place where we can talk about personal stuff. But there is always that sting you feel whenever you’re around him. The sting that reminds you still kinda like him and think he’s cute.

Maybe this seems a bit random, but I wanted to sum the important events that have had an affect on me. This type of post won’t be my last. I think the topic of men will always be up for discussion but until the next time, this is only the tip of the iceberg.