So I have this theory known as 1:45 am Last Call which I came up with one night out in Columbus after years of experience closing bars down. Entertained by my favorite activity, People Watching, I noticed groups of 1 boy- 1 girl all around me. Everywhere. At tables. Around the bar. Even walking towards the exit. As the actual “Last Call” was announced at 1:45 am, clarity came to my wine-induced (and possibly a shot or two) mind: Everyone is trying to go home with someone!
Everywhere I looked were boys with glazed-over eyes and girls slurring their words. Boys spitting every line that “works”; Girls inching closer to tomorrow’s Walk of Shame hoping that they get the hint, and because her 3-inch heels are killing her feet. With only 15 minutes left, half of the ‘couples’ decide to add one last round to their already shot-infested bar tabs…because after all, hookups are always best when you’re too intoxicated to remember them. I hope you know me by now to sense the sarcasm here.
However, sometimes things don’t pan out the way the drunken lovebirds had hoped. No, most of the time the girl has to go drag her drunk friend out of the bathroom; Or the guy finds out that his ride is threatening to leave without him. So they bid farewell as the girl adds, “Friend me on Facebook.” Disappointed, he finishes his drink- as is apparently part of Man Code- and remembers that it’s only Friday night. Therefore, tomorrow promises another night, another bar, another girl. He thinks, Sure, she was pretty and fairly cool…but there’s always another girl.
To be fair, maybe this isn’t an exact recollection of one of my nights out at the bars. Perhaps it’s a concoction of many nights out- mixed with my own interpretations of such situations. But I’ve been around the bars enough to know that this boy-girl scenario happens more often than not. And on various occasions, I have definitely heard a guy tell his buddies, “She was okay,” as he checks out another girl or two immediately after. It happens. There’s no way to deny it…but to be fair, I do know some A*MAY*ZING guys who I will proudly defend are not like this.
But what about the girls that go to the bar looking to prey on guys? Yes, they’re out there. Vultures is what I’m going to call them, especially since they tend to dress in black. And if they get angry… if anyone gets in between them and what they want…the scowl appears and the claws may come out. Okay, I’m having way too much fun with this. Let me explain why I’m bringing this up.
The other day I heard a story from last weekend that reminded me of my 1:45 am Last Call theory…though is it a theory if it’s the truth? Anyways, let me say that this was not my story, I swear. Yet I can definitely picture the scene as it was told to me by one of dearest friends And the story simply goes: Weekend Night…Crowded Bar…Girls on the Prowl…Alcohol…One Great Guy…More Alcohol…Girls with No Reservations. Yes, the vultures were out. For my own humor and because it’s my blog & my imagination, the role of The Vultures were played by petty, absolutely no personality, drunken nineteen old girls with fake IDs… who have absolutely no chance with the A*MAY*ZING guy that they chose to prey on.
Seriously though, based on what the storyteller shared with me, I feel sorry for those girls. It’s not their fault that they didn’t realize that their prey wasn’t just another boy. They let their attraction hold them back from seeing just how different he is. How incredible he is. I really do feel sorry for them. But more importantly, I feel fortunate for not making their same mistake; for being granted the opportunity to find out more than what meets the eye.
Some girls don’t go to the bars to play the game of Who Wants to Go Home with Me Tonight; and a few boys don’t either. Most of the time, these kinds of boys and girls are forced to deal with the antics of those other types. However, every now and then, (dare I say when the fates align?), a not-just-another boy meets his match in the presence of a not-just-another girl. Now I can only speak on behalf of the girl in this situation, but once this occurrence happens she never looks at another boy in the bar the same way…if she even ever looks at another one.
*Okay, I’m really not being fair here. Let me admit that I may- or may not- have been a vulture once (or twice) back in the day. College is a bit of a blur, but I will say that I never once did the Walk of Shame across campus. But in between floors of a dorm, now that’s a different scenario.