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Meeting Men at Bars

by Seafarrwide (follow)
Check out my blog at seafarrwide.com/ for more about me. Articles on Dating, Travel, Poetry & things to do.
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A couple of weeks ago I was in the city with a female friend. We went into a bar. As we walked in, a man waved at me from across the room. I did a half smile and squinted his way, realising I didn’t know him at all. This was obviously their pickup ploy. We sat at the bar ordered a drink and within minutes one of the men ambled over. He appeared slightly inebriated, lucid enough to request nicely if we would like to join him and his friend for a drink at their table. As I had been guilty in the past of moaning to friends that "Men never talk to you at bars anymore" I thought we should accept his invitation and be social.

We carried our drinks over to their table, introductions we made and we proceeded to chit chat. After five minutes, I could tell by the repetitive nature of their conversation that they had been consuming wine for several hours. The slightly better looking one was guiding the conversation and continuously making a statement of how happily married he was while singing the virtues of his supposed single mate. Meanwhile, his single mate who had the physical attributes of a twig about to snap off a branch, scanned my body with a sideways leer from head to toe. I had to agree that I looked damn fine in my white jeans though I soon began to feel like I might have split meat pie on them. The married man demanded I give stick man my phone number, that I wouldn’t be disappointed to find out in daylight that he was a fine specimen.

After much shifting in my seat, a little voice arguing in my head, “Maybe you should give him a chance? It had been a long stretch between dates." so I succumbed under pressure. Immediately as I wrote the last digit on the coaster, I knew I wouldn’t meet up with him.

The fact was, he bored me terribly, he was intoxicated, his only interest appeared to be ordering motorcycle parts from his work from his home business (which more or less meant he worked very little) He didn’t even ride or own a motorcycle, at least that would have been sexy. I always loved a man in leathers on a motorbike. Instead, he droned on for an hour, avoiding answering any real questions about his own relationship status. I struggled throughout his verborrhea, while skilfully covering my yawns with my hand.

The married man seized the coaster with a triumphant glint in his eyes. Soon after, the conversation rapidly escalated into inane ribald comments, removing any doubt in my mind the level of intelligence I was dealing with. I announced that we had to go as my friend had an early start next day. Married man jumps up. "Are you driving, can you give both of us a lift home?"

My first natural inclination was to agree as it was on my way home. Thank god my guardian angel smacked me swiftly on the bum.

“Ah actually no, I don’t think your wife would appreciate it. I’m sure you can both afford to share a cab home." I replied with a forced smile.

"Thanks for the drinks guys, have to go!”

“Hey but we didn’t buy you a drink.” They both chorused like a couple of mutants.

“Spot on guys! BYE!” we chorused back.

My friend and I jumped in the car, shaking our heads. Next, Stick man sends a text.
“I think you are just fabulous, please agree to meet up with me for a coffee.” I instantly flicked delete. A little while later another text comes in, this time it is from Married man. “Hey my friend is truly a nice guy but I’m not.”

I immediately reply “Look both of you have had way too much to drink, go home and stop bothering me.”

Married man then proceeds to say he is at home and sends a stream of sexually explicit text messages telling me what he would like to do and begging to be asked back. At this point, I decided best to ignore this disgusting man. I felt the bile begin to rise. How lovely, a married man out to cheat by cutting his best mates grass, even though not a blade had grown or ever would.

Mental note - Don’t ever write your phone number on a beer coaster!

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