Asshole Day at the Belmont House
For my local readers, I'd like to strongly advise against dating at The Barking Dog. Granted the venue was not my choice, but the name should have tipped me off. Unlike just about every other bar/restaurant/image conscious business in the Metro region, The Barking Dog has no qualms about hiring ugly girls.
To be fair, and to get to the point, the bar had no real involvement in Tuesday night's ordeal. Against my better judgment, I braved the mean streets of Bethesda to grab a drink with the rocket scientist. Considering the way our previous date went, and the fact that I was wearing a much better outfit than last time, I assumed things would go well. Honestly, I had no reason to believe that they wouldn't.
Boy was I wrong. My first indication should have been this lovely comment from my date:
"Wow, [our waitress] has a big ass."
As much I appreciate that observation, it'd really help me out more if you stopped staring at it. Conversation continued, with occasional interruptions from the well-endowed staff. Nothing out of the ordinary, really, unless your date is overtly flirting with the waitress during her increasingly prolonged visits to your table. Finally, in my most sarcastic tone, I told him he really should get her number while he was here. And while he may be a bon a fide aeronautical engineer, he's still an asshat for completely missing the sarcasm in that statement.
Not only did he get her number, but he used me to do it. Apparently, "my friend said I should ask for your number" is a really good pick-up line. At this point, I dumped my Jack and Coke over his head, left barely enough cash to cover my two drinks, and stormed out of the bar in a fury. Here's a tip for you darlin': Don't flirt with someone else's date.
Okay, that's not really what happened. After he got her number, the waitress asked if we'd like anything else. Of course, I said that I wanted the check so I could get the hell out of there—especially since I had agreed to pay early in the evening. But oh no. He had to get another drink. And I paid for it. Like a complete idiot, I paid for a three rounds, and left the waitress a decent tip. Despite the circumstances, there was no reason for me to lash out at her. She didn't know any better, and he's the evil one. I imagine that statement will be somewhat of a theme for their future interactions.
I probably should be angrier than I am, but in reality, I didn't like him very much and this is a really convenient way to never have to talk to him again. The only thing that really bugs me is the total disregard for common courtesy. I certainly am not going to say that I never ogled other boys when I was with a date. I won't even say that I never had my eye on a cute bartender or waiter that I later went back to flirt with. But I do pride myself on possessing some tact and basic social skills. Maybe I'm wrong here, but I've always believed discretion is the better part of valor. This is, of course, why I post intimate details of the lives of those foolish enough to get close to me.
***
It would seem that status updates regarding the Letter S have become a requisite feature here. If you already know his site, feel free to read about it there. I'm too tired to say the same things anymore.
To be fair, and to get to the point, the bar had no real involvement in Tuesday night's ordeal. Against my better judgment, I braved the mean streets of Bethesda to grab a drink with the rocket scientist. Considering the way our previous date went, and the fact that I was wearing a much better outfit than last time, I assumed things would go well. Honestly, I had no reason to believe that they wouldn't.
Boy was I wrong. My first indication should have been this lovely comment from my date:
"Wow, [our waitress] has a big ass."
As much I appreciate that observation, it'd really help me out more if you stopped staring at it. Conversation continued, with occasional interruptions from the well-endowed staff. Nothing out of the ordinary, really, unless your date is overtly flirting with the waitress during her increasingly prolonged visits to your table. Finally, in my most sarcastic tone, I told him he really should get her number while he was here. And while he may be a bon a fide aeronautical engineer, he's still an asshat for completely missing the sarcasm in that statement.
Not only did he get her number, but he used me to do it. Apparently, "my friend said I should ask for your number" is a really good pick-up line. At this point, I dumped my Jack and Coke over his head, left barely enough cash to cover my two drinks, and stormed out of the bar in a fury. Here's a tip for you darlin': Don't flirt with someone else's date.
Okay, that's not really what happened. After he got her number, the waitress asked if we'd like anything else. Of course, I said that I wanted the check so I could get the hell out of there—especially since I had agreed to pay early in the evening. But oh no. He had to get another drink. And I paid for it. Like a complete idiot, I paid for a three rounds, and left the waitress a decent tip. Despite the circumstances, there was no reason for me to lash out at her. She didn't know any better, and he's the evil one. I imagine that statement will be somewhat of a theme for their future interactions.
I probably should be angrier than I am, but in reality, I didn't like him very much and this is a really convenient way to never have to talk to him again. The only thing that really bugs me is the total disregard for common courtesy. I certainly am not going to say that I never ogled other boys when I was with a date. I won't even say that I never had my eye on a cute bartender or waiter that I later went back to flirt with. But I do pride myself on possessing some tact and basic social skills. Maybe I'm wrong here, but I've always believed discretion is the better part of valor. This is, of course, why I post intimate details of the lives of those foolish enough to get close to me.
***
It would seem that status updates regarding the Letter S have become a requisite feature here. If you already know his site, feel free to read about it there. I'm too tired to say the same things anymore.
posted by The Husskateer at 7:20 PM
2 comments
