My friends came into town for the weekend so last night was girls’ night out. It was a lot of fun.
I didn’t expect us to get hit on, especially after reading the Citizen Renegade blog. I guess I’m operating on the assumption, now, that all men are disciples under the direction of that blog. With all the gorgeous girls wandering around, dressed to give heart attacks, I thought we’d just sit and people watch as we caught up with each other. No dice.
I didn’t feel like contributing to the misogynistic sentiment that permeates Citizen Renegade by being a bitch to the guys who had balls enough to approach us. Actually, none of us are bitches like that. We would have happily talked to anyone who wanted to talk to us. The only people interested in talking to us happened to be guys.
Anyway, the experience was enlightening. I was surprised to be approached at all because none of us were showing cleavage or wearing anything scandalous, and we huddled in a circle to talk. Not exactly an approachable bunch.
Thanks to Citizen Renegade, my vocabulary has grown to include “alpha,” “beta,” “game,” and “neg,” among others.
The first guy who approached us came up to me and, with the most serious expression, asked, “Let me ask you something: where did you get your pirate clothes from?” Immediately I thought, “Neg.” But I was also kind of flattered, because I wouldn’t mind dressing like a pirate everyday. If I can pull it off, I probably will dress like a pirate. For serious. I wanted to be flattered but I could tell from his face that he was trying to make me feel bad about myself. I was taken off guard, mostly because he didn’t crack a smile after I started laughing. He retained the serious expression as if he were asking me sincerely, and it was off-putting. So I stopped laughing.
I looked down at what I was wearing: black and brown cowboy boots with brown and grey striped socks, a knee-length, brown and white polka-dotted silk skirt, a 3/4 sleeve beige Led Zeppelin shirt that says “Squeeze my lemon” on the front, and a brown leather vest. Yes, I love wearing brown. I answered him, “Various thrift stores and estate sales.” I looked at my friends, who were also taken off guard, and they helped smooth the conversation toward something else.
The guy pulls out his phone and starts looking at it and casually says, “So what’s up?” First thought at this, “He’s being purposefully aloof.”
I shrug and say something boring and eventually he realizes I’m wearing a Zeppelin shirt. He comments and makes a face. Says something about Pink Floyd. I’m a Floyd fan, too. He asks, “If you could choose between seeing Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin?” My answer was obvious. My friend L chose Floyd, to which he said, “Oh, I want to talk to her now.” I smiled and gestured openly that she was all his. I mean, I know I wasn’t interested anyway, but all I could think after that was, “He doesn’t like Zeppelin, how can he call himself a man?”
We migrated a couple of times and he followed the first time. We got to chatting about what we do and he mentioned something about being a home-school math teacher, and after talking to him for a while my bullshit meter almost broke. C’mon, man, really? I know enough about the education system to know better. At the second migration, he said, while casually looking at his phone, “I have to go anyway, want to chat later?”
I said, “No thank you!” Smiled and walked away. Not bitchy or anything, but directly. To the point. Set him loose to hunt for others.
That first approach was whack. I wondered what kind of girls this was working on for him to use it on me without any improvisation. The hardcore neg thing, I mean. I could tell this had probably worked for him before with other girls, but he seemed to be confused about altering his game as needed. I also wondered what impression I was making to be approached like that by someone with such a rigid personality.
The next approach was from two guys with better game. They approached all of us equally and talked to each of us instead of singling one out. They seemed comfortable, too, which I didn’t realize was what the other guy was lacking until we talked to them. This approach was much better, and if I had been on the market, I totally would have flirted with one of them. It was refill time and we lost them at the bar, which was fine because none of us were really interested anyway.
A third guy came up later. He was cute, friendly, confident, and like the second approach, he talked to all of us rather than singling one out. I thought he did a good job, too. It would have worked on me if I were better. He didn’t stay long enough for us to ditch him, which was good. His approach was also well done. He asked us a question as if he and his friend had been trying to settle an argument all night and he needed our opinions for evidence. He made each of us answer. It was really cute. Then he said he’d probably hit us up later because he was going to find more answers. He left on a high note and with each of us smiling.
The final approach was from two Mexican guys. They were nice and I wouldn’t have minded talking to them more, but refill time came again and we lost them on the way to the bar. L and I were standing together off to the side while the other two girls were chatting at a table nearby, so we probably seemed more approachable. These guys had less game than the first guy who came up to us, but they were more agreeable and easier to get along with. They were guys I would hang out with as friends. I imagine that is not why they approached us.
I was glad that none of the guys kept trying. They cut their losses and moved on. Like real men.
Why is it that I’m being approached now that I’m not interested? Some cosmic joke I will never get.