Since the last post about babies, it’s been brought to my attention that some folks misinterpreted it and believe I’m desperate to find a man. So, for the record, let me start off by reiterating that I’m not now, nor have I been on the prowl for a man. That’s an active choice on my part for many reason I shant bore you with now. However, for my own amusement and relative sanity-keeping in bar situations where it sometimes happens that a fella decides to sidle up and strike up a convo, I’ve been known to make up a variety of fake names/personalities/jobs/lives. I know it’s sort of mean and yet…I AM GOOD WITH THAT. And I only do it if the guy is sorta douchey and/or drunk to the point of slurring and invading personal space. Sometimes both.
With that, here are a few of my all-time favorites for you to enjoy and/or steal the next time you’re at the Regal Beagle waiting for Chrissy and Janet to show up and Larry just won’t leave you alone.
1- Once asked what I did for a living, I responded with what I felt was the most unrealistic thing possible — professional alligator wrestler. While I know there must be some people who actually do this in like…where? — Louisiana? Someplace in Australia or wherever Crocodile Dundee is from? — I was sure the 23-year old “orthopedic surgeons” I was talking to would call me out immediately. Surely, they’d say, “You’re ridiculous. And 5’2”. What do you really do??!” But no, the response I got instead was,”Cooooooool.”
So I went with it. Told these brainiacs all about how my special skill set included hand-to-hand combat and, of course, CPR. That’s for the off chance the ‘gators die and I have to revive them. With mouth-to-mouth.
2- Then there was the time I was asked what kind of guy I’m into. You know, who among the rich and famous tops my list of dream hook-ups (still don’t know what that means, by the way). Logically, I replied with Danny DeVito.
3- Sometimes I encroach on my friends’ situations if they’re just too nice to push back on someone’s unwelcome advances. This included the time my friend gave her number to a random at the bar who texted her at 3 a.m. that night to see if she “wanted to hang out.”
I forcibly removed the phone from her hands and carried on an hour-long text conversation with him in which I let him know “I” would love to hang out if that meant him coming to meet me for some bowling, followed (as you do) by prayer time and talking about our hopes and dreams. How “I” really wanted to get to know him as a person and thought this relationship might really go somewhere. And yes “I” was married, but perhaps polyandry wasn’t such a bad thing, if he was willing to share me (he was). The fact that he was willing to go along with all of it made me realize he was drunker, dumber and more desperate than any of us ever imagined. So we broke up.
Here’s me in action that night:
4- And of course, who doesn’t have a quintessential Vegas story? I may or may not have pretended to be really into this Mexican guy at Tao Beach who was in the business of “imports and exports,” just to share in his group’s bottle service and other free stuff. I know, I know. Terrible. But I was super nice to him as I turned him down on his offer to fly me to Ibiza the next afternoon. I said I couldn’t because my boyfriend would be very upset. My boyfriend named Danny who was a professional alligator wrestler.