Last weekend I went home for a couple days to celebrate a friend’s birthday and take advantage of one of the last weeks of summer. After spending the entire day drinking outdoors (is there really anything better than that?) we all went to a bar to cap off the night. Unfortunately for me, all of my friends from home are in long term relationships so they have different plans when they go to a bar than I do. More unfortunately for me is the fact that we went to the bar with one girl who was outside of our circle of friends.
Try as I might, no amount of Bud Lights and Bahama Mamas could make her turn into a 1 (she works in animal control in the county…) so that basically ended my night of speaking to her. Lucky for me there were six bachelorette parties and one divorce party (first I’ve ever heard of these) going on at the bar! Unlucky for me, none of my friends wanted to go and wingman for me so I could talk to girls.
Sidenote: I don’t know if its just me, but a one-man attack at hitting on girls never feels natural. If you would be more successful going it alone then you would simply break away from your bros, hit on girls, and then regroup at the end of the night. At the very least you need a body next to you to talk to a group of girls and make it less awkward than going up alone (unless you are a well known actor, pop star, or professional athlete which I am not…yet).
After 30 minutes of unsuccessfully trying to get my friends to come on the dancefloor with me, I decided to fight the battle solo and head onto the dancefloor. Of course at this point I was a little angry so I did what any reasonable angry individual would do and headed over to the bar. The talent in the room was incredible, it was literally two girls for every guy and most of the guys in there were 40 year old with no game. As I waited at the bar for a chance to get a drink, a clear 1 walked by me and cut ahead to the bar. At first I was sure that she knew the old dude standing next to the bar, but after she got her drink she literally just started to walk away. Annoyed and in the moment, I used the best pickup line that I could think of, “Did you really just cut me like that?” The girl turned and looked at me and then just said, “Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were waiting for a drink. What is your name?”
Sidenote: HOW DID THAT WORK?!!
It turns out her name was Samantha, a nice Italian girl from NYC who worked at a big financial firm and was a big fan of my Nantucket Reds (gotta love it). I was thinking the girl was pretty cool until she whipped out her phone and said, “Hey I just drafted this fantasy football team, can you tell me if its good?” Marriage. I would put a ring on it right now if I had the chance.
Samantha and I talked for a few minutes and then (of course) my friends I came with naturally started texting me things like “If you aren’t having sex with her on the dancefloor we need to go now.” Thanks guys. Of course this girl lives in NYC and I am away from my current city so there is nowhere to take her. I trick her into giving me her phone number and then we leave the bar.
While I just considered this to be another phone number taking up space in my phone, Samantha blew me up all night talking about football and random other stuff. Thought it was pretty cool at the time. Flash forward two days and I’m still getting texts like “Should I drop Jahvid Best?” from a girl that lives hours away and I’m starting to lose my interest in this girl. After Sarah ensures me that Samantha is solely using me for fantasy football advice, I stop giving much effort to the responses and think of it as something that will pass.
A couple more days pass (about four from when I met her to put it in reference) and all of the sudden this girl starts double and triple texting me about fantasy football again. I politely answer her questions and keep the small talk going when she sends me a message about her volleyball game and how well she played tonight. Being a former volleyball player I talked to her about the sport and asked what position she played. She comes back at me with a 4-part text message talking about her volleyball career and the broken thumb that she sustained that night. Talking about a broken thumb might not be considered an overshare for people who are essentially strangers, however, sending pictures of the broken thumb is way over the line in my book.
When did we get to this point where you are sending me pictures of your disfigured thumb? Did you think that I wouldn’t believe that you injured your thumb? At 12:15 AM on a Wednesday night do you really think I want to check out your gross injury? Right or wrong this is the second picture of broken fingers (Hi Rachel 2) that I have received in the last 6 months. I’m not sure if these girls think that I’m some sort of medical professional (I’m not) or that sending me pictures will encourage me to give them better fantasy advice (it won’t) but I would appreciate it if girls kept the broken body images to a minimum.
Anyone else receive strange pictures from someone you just met at a bar? Sound off in the comment section.
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By the way, this girl is still texting me at least a few times a week talking about life and fantasy football…the ultimate slowplay?!!
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