Bar Dougie
06.24.05 (9:46 pm) [edit]I fucking hate bars.
One of the stupider things I have to endure is the fact that while the one thing in the world I'm any good at - playing bass - is only ever going to make me any money inside a bar, I can't stand the goddamn places. The beer costs too much, it's too loud to think, shit's sticking to the floor that could confound scientists for eons, and most of the people there are fucking idiots.
So I hung out in a bar tonight.
Walking around Broad Ripple, I took in all the signs, trying to figure out where to go to meet chicks. Because chicks dig freshly divorced fat guys with bad attitudes towards bars. No really, it's true.
I stood there for half an hour trying to remember why I was doing this. It felt like a completely stupid exercise, a total waste of time when I could be home jerking off and drinking stuff I actually like. Wow, I really AM an anti-social, cynical fuck. I felt like Johnny Depp in the brilliantly-shot scene in Fear & Loathing In Las Vegas. "Get some golf shoes! We're surrounded by giant reptiles! And somebody's feeding BOOZE to these goddamn animals!"
It was that ugly. I was horrified by the shallowness of it. And I'm the guy who's not getting laid. Yep, that's me.
One girl came up to me, a girl who had walked in with another guy. So that was weird right off the bat. She started talking to me, being very nice. She was fucking beautiful. Stunning. And she was obviously doing her good deed for the day, trying to make the fat guy in the corner feel better. Which I appreciated, but it didn't really work. She asked if I listened to Jack Johnson. "Yeah, I think it's one of the best albums Miles ever did." Blank stare. "I'm just fucking with you. Yeah, I've heard some of his stuff."
The other guy came back for her and she left. Thanks for keeping the fat guy company, luscious already-taken blonde girl. I think I'm going to go home now.
Hanging out at a FedExKinkos at 11PM on a Friday,
Dougie
posted by: dave (reply)
post date: 06.25.05 (4:43 am)
After my divorce, I went a year without a date -well, a year without sex anyway. I would go to bars every weekend, and hated it too. Finally I gave up, and decided to stay home. After one weekend of that, my brother dragged me out to a strip club, of all places. I was having no fun (titties were nice, but knowing I couldn't touch wasn't helping my mood). We finally left, and stopped in a bar next door for a not quite so overpriced beer. That's where I met my wife. So, I don't know what this story means, or why I told it... but there ya fucking go. ;-)
posted by: Dougie (reply)
post date: 06.25.05 (9:44 am)
Reply to: dave
I guess if you throw enough shit at the wall, something's going to stick eventually.
I have no great dreams about wonderful long-lasting relationships, because I think it's bullshit anyway except in cases of extreme luck. Yeah, it happens. Not often. Simple observation proves that.
I'm borderline incompetent when talking to women anyway. I don't really know what I'm doing, and a large part of me barely even CARES. I'm not sure what that means. But I've got other shit to worry about right now anyway. Like whether or not to turn the lights on or what canned food I'm eating this week. But ya know what? I like living alone. I really do. At this point, I'm willing to accept the shittier aspects of it just to be able to enjoy sitting in the dark getting drunk to Tom Waits albums. There's something to be said for that.