So, I’m at the Redwood.
For those reading this not from Stephenville, Newfoundland, Canada, the Redwood is a bar in town. It’s clientele is the most eclectic that you will find in this Bar-Friendly town. If you are 45+ you go to the Brown Derby, if you are 17-24 you go to 104/The bar, and every other business tends to keep their own regulars. The Redwood is the bar in town where you are guaranteed to find someone in your own demographic, if you go on a Friday night. All ages, shapes, social class flock to the Redwood on Friday nights.
In and of itself it is actually an incredibly versatile bar. If you got a girl who wants to dance, but you would rather hang out and have a couple of drinks. The Redwood is your compromise. It’s a place where she can get up and dance all night long, but you can also sit back and have a few drinks, because you’re probably going to like to music as it is played by the live entertainment. I enjoy it, in fact it sometimes actually creeps into my mind as being one of the best bars in town to go to.
But that’s not what I’m here to talk about. A couple of weeks ago I was at the Redwood. I had just finished hanging out with the byes and there was a friend at the Redwood that I was really interested in meeting up with… especially considering it’s a friend that I met the Saturday before while I was drunk. I had no idea what she looked like but managed to keep in touch all week via text.
So while there, I meet up with her outside and have a seat on the bench because there were way too many people inside and it was really hot. As she pumped back in and out I kept meeting other people I know so I just hung out behind the Redwood with the smokers and just soaked in the atmosphere (although primarily that consisted of Second Hand Smoke)
I’m not going to name any names, because for the most part I don’t know the people involved but it was hilarious to see the most primal of all human interactions playing itself out behind the Redwood. The mating dance… of sorts.
Okay, so I’m on the picnic table and I see these two buffoons that could not have been older than early 20’s spouting lame catch phrases and throwing testosterone-validating nicknames at each other in a vain attempt to charm three middle-aged women that were clearly poking fun at their antics. Considering the guys legitimately thought they were being smooth, and the girls were poking fun so discreetly that the drunkards didn’t notice fascinated me. It was interesting.
A few moments later, different group of people outside. Three guys are standing not far from me, one of them was actually a guy I graduated with. There is a group of 4-5 middle-aged girls, maybe early 30’s that are smoking close to the right of us. One of the guys starts spouting lines and it was the most ridiculous attempt I’ve seen in real life. It’s like a bad TV show where the doofus of the group tries to act like Casanova.
Thing is, whereas the first targets subtle about the slim chances that the males actually have, this group took a different approach. Well at least one of them did, the remarks were nothing but sarcasm and condescending. It was pretty ugly I must say. This girl was not hideous, but she was FAR from a prime-candidate for maxim, and the way that whole interaction was handled made her as attractive as the wicked witch of the west from Oz. If you are curious to how it all went down, just watch the movie “Dazed And Confused” when you get to the initiation of the freshmen girls pay close attention to the girl who is barking commands and being a bitch. That’s exactly what I saw at the Redwood that night.
This is interesting, because before then I would hear a story about a guy that is absolutely shit faced hitting on a girl and her turning him down to be typically, “what an idiot guy, what the hell does he think he’s doing?” Well, the lesson I took from this is that a very clear reflection on your own personality is exactly HOW you deal with that situation.
Dumb and Dumber in the earlier scenario did not get lucky with those women that night. However when they get home they’ll probably look back on the night and remember a fun drunk where they chatted up some women and had a blast. Whereas if the strike-out case in the second scenario will do well to get drunk enough to forget the night because chances are if he didn’t black out he’s going to reflect on the night as being a pretty shitty night were a bitch called him down to the dirt.
I get it, I really do. You can argue the point that if he feels so bad about the night he might learn his lesson and not do it next time. It’s a legit statement, but I really think you can get that point across without entering the realm of blatant arrogance.
To steal a line from Danko Jones, “Well she might look pretty…. But She’s UGLY AS HELL”
I’m not saying I’m any prime catch, but before you start telling off the drunken oaf and looking down on them from your high pedestal. Keep in mind that you mind be getting a few laughs from your friends, but not everyone in the bar is drunk. Not everyone in the bar is oblivious, and when you channel your inner bitch, the sober candidates that you might very well have wanted to find when you enter that club could easily snub you over. Is that really worth it because of a drunk idiot?
Sometimes you gotta be vicious, there are guys that just don’t get the hint, you’d eventually have to snap at some point. But this is not that case, this guy just saw this girl for the first time because he was taken back by how cute she was…She flipped insta-bitch. I don’t know about anyone else, but when I see that I walk away.
Doll yourself up in caked-on makeup, and the shortest skirt or just your longest shirt (whichever you prefer to wear)… that’s all for nothing if everything else beyond the wardrobe looks like shit.
Now do you REALLY wanna remind people of this??
Keep that in mind next time you shut down some drunk dude’s advances