Thursday, June 3, 2010

Tales of Blokes in Bars

I turned 21 a few weeks ago. As such, I go out to bars at night. I come home with really good stories as well.

1. The first night I went out alone I walked into the Irish bar in town. It has leprechauns everywhere. This big burly man tells me to come over, and I assume he's the bouncer. I go over, narrowly managing to avoid being hit by pool cues. He tells me "You're not 21."
I say "Well, yes I am."
"No you're not. You have to be 16."
"Sir, I know that I'm 21."
"If you're 21, I'll buy you a drink."

Well, win-win situation for me!

"Okay." The bartender asks to see my ID. I give it to him. He chortles "Hey! 21 two days ago! Happy Birthday! What do you want?"
"Um, something girly?"
The bartender, who looks like Mr. Ollivander from Harry Potter, nods and shuffles away to make my drink. The burly non-bouncer man with a beer gut shouts to the bartender "Hey, make her drink strong enough so she'll go home with me!"
I turn to him. "Sir, how old are you?"

Oh man. 

The bartender gives me my drink for free, "cause you're so darn cute!" I drink it as fast as possible, and hop off the bar stool to leave.
44 year-old says "Hey, where are you going? let me buy you a drink."
"No thank you."
"Come on! I don't mean anything by it, I don't really want to sleep with you."
I give him the 'what the fuck are you talking about' look. "You totally do."
He nods in assent "You're right. But one drink, a friendly one?"
"No, thank you. I have to work tomorrow."
I leave, shaking my head.

2. I was out with a friend of mine from high school. We were at a karaoke bar. I was sitting with him, talking and laughing when I notice that an old man is staring at me. I give him sort of a smile, and he says "You look just like my daughter."
I say "Um, thanks."
He then says "She died in a car wreck about a year ago."
"...Oh my god. I'm so sorry to hear that."
He stares at me awhile longer and then says "She had your beautiful smile and eyes..."
I turn to my friend and say "We need to leave. I feel bad for being born."

3. Last night, I was at a bar to hear a band. I was drinking my 'girly drink', watermelon vodka and sprite, when this old, old man in a cowboy hat, denim shirt and jeans, and giant bushy white beard turns to me and wheezes "So, baby. *cough* Where you been all my life?"
I reply "Um, a uterus."
He gives me a disappointed look and walks away, taking his awful cigarette stench with him.

4. I was out with a friend and she left to go drink wine at her house. I stayed, because I wanted to learn the cute bartender's name. This guy comes and sits next to me. He's balding.
Him: "Hey, how are you?"
"Fine, thanks. How are you?"
"I'm good. What are you drinking?"
"The Scottish Tartanic Ale from the Blackfoot."
"Oh really? Is it good?"
"Yeah, I like it."
"So, did you see me doing cartwheels earlier?"

I had.

"I did, yeah."
"Really? What'd you think?"
I stare at him. "They were very well-executed?"
"Really? Thanks! So, how old are you?"
"21. How old are you?"
"40. But I did 3 cartwheels, that has to make me at least 30!"
"No, cartwheels don't determine age."

At this point, a gorgeous guy my age walks up and asks "Is he bothering you?" in a charming English accent. I nod a little. He tells the man that I'm not interested, and takes his seat. He then asks "Are you alright, love?" "I am now." We keep talking, and his friends come over. They're all English soldiers, stationed in Canada and visiting for the weekend. I'm surrounded by 5 men from England, from 20-28. They all call me 'love'. I am in heaven.

The charming Englishman deserves his own story tomorrow.

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