happy halloween!
How ironic is it that the story I am about to share is going directly over a post where I talk about how other people regard me as so mature for my age? Because what happened last night/earlier today is quite the contradiction to that claim.
I was at a bar with a couple close girlfriends and a few guys who were varying degrees of acquaintance milled nearby. I was already a smidge annoyed because someone practically climbed on top of me to order her drink, so I gently nudged her away from me, and she got an attitude about it. She asked me not to touch her. Um, who touched whom first? I wouldn't be touching you to indicate you need to back the fuck off if you hadn't initiated it by jostling me. Hello, personal space, people! I spied an empty barstool, and knew it wouldn't be empty for long if I didn't grab it. I made sure no one standing near it had momentarily vacated (to pay for a drink or whatever) but the coast appeared clear, and I plopped down. Relaxed. Breathed easy. A looooong time later, a woman I've never seen before comes right up to me, looking puzzled. I gave her an equally puzzled look back and she said to me "I got up to go to the bathroom, you are in my seat" I said, "exactly, YOU got up, and it isn't YOUR seat...but I'll be nice and share the seat with you" in the name of drunken diplomacy, because I figured anyone deluded enough to think a stool was theirs for the night was probably a little unstable. I graciously scooted over and she arranged her much more ample behind onto the seat. One of the guys we were with asked me "who is that?" and I rolled my eyes and told him "she thinks it is HER seat" and we laughed. Her gross frizzy yet coated in product hair kept brushing my arm and back which is one of the things I hate when I'm at a bar (damaged, split-ended hair that feels like straw being flicked around and brushing against me. ew. get a trim, every six weeks. use conditioner. it isn't that hard!). Her fat ass kept pressing against me, too. But like the martyr I am, I tolerated it for what I felt was the greater good. As we'll soon see, no good deed goes unpunished.
The girl mercifully got up again, not saying a word to me (yes, not even THANK YOU because I certainly wasn't obligated to share, but whatever, at least she was gone). I invited one of my friends to sit with me, considering both our asses (and senses of entitlement) together were smaller than the woman's. And I don't mind being in close proximity to people when I enjoy their company. Everything is merry and jolly for quite awhile. Then I have the SAME unhappy woman in my face again. She wasn't even as polite (which granted isn't saying much) this encounter. She tapped me on the shoulder (oh, the unwanted touching! multiple batteries in one night!) and said "you two need to get out of my chair" At this point I was a little fed up, so I stood my ground. I flatly told her "No, we aren't moving. You've left TWICE. You cannot seriously expect this chair to be here when you return, this is a crowded bar so when you get up you forfeit it, and it doesn't have your fucking name on it. So go away. Leave us alone" (yes, I actually said all this - go me) For a second she was stunned, because she was probably used to heaving her bulk around and getting her way after some histrionics. I thought she got my message, loud and clear. THEN she gets on the other side of my friend and SHOVES us both off the chair with her huge hips. The stools were tallish so we're lucky we didn't get hurt, being surprised and considering the distance to potentially stumble. Luckily I landed on my feet, even though I was wearing four inch heels and could have easily twisted an ankle. It caught me off guard so I just stood there with my mouth gaping open, incredulous. My friend had faster, more vengeful reflexes. She threw the remainder of her drink at the bitch. HA! Survival instinct at its finest.
The woman apparently was ready to defend "her" chair to the death, because she immediately threw her full drink back at my friend. The area of the crowded bar near us came to a halt, this was an upscale place and not where brawls regularly occur. Strangers who saw the whole thing happen kept coming up to us and asking what the woman's problem was. And I, in my indignant state, answered "I don't know what her problem is, she looks forty, you'd think being that old she would understand normal bar etiquette" I really didn't get it. I've been going to bars since I was underage and I would never dream of behaving like that woman and demanding a chair I vacated. Who would? A really sweet girl brought my friend napkins, and I asked her whether she worked there. She didn't, she was just being nice. I told her too bad because I wanted someone to throw that crazy bitch out. The girl said she was sorry she couldn't. My other friend said, "that woman IS obviously crazy, like clinically, let's just get the hell out of here" Then she tried to tell me the woman had a foreign accent and wasn't American and probably didn't understand. I'm sorry but manners are universal. I didn't want to go because I don't back down to people's tantrums (won't I be a great parent? ha ha I'll probably end up doing the opposite - caving and feeding my kid candy whenever it cries) and didn't want to appear cowardly. We were right, she was wrong, simple as that. At that moment, I understood how people can haul off and get into fist fights, especially with the ol' liquid courage pumping through the veins. I'm not violent at all, but the urge to strike this woman overwhelmed me. I felt riled up, and I said out loud "I work out. I could take her. She might be a LOT bigger than me, but she is out of shape, I'll win." My other friend saw that I was only half-kidding, sensed the rage building and offered a little advice that probably kept us all out of jail. "She is clearly ghetto and psycho. Don't stoop to her level. Plus she could have a knife or something" and I had to soberly concur with her reasoning. The friend who was also displaced felt differently, and wanted us to go over there and tag team her. It was hilarious, she delivered the plan: "you pull her hair, and I'll punch her" in an earnest tone.
The two of us decided we had to retaliate a little before making our departure. At that point, a crush of people separated us from the woman, but we could still see her. And she kept looking over at us (yeah, she better be watching her back!) My friend gave me the ice in her cup, and I took it back to the sixth grade and sneakily threw pieces at her. A few bounced off or got tangled in her nasty puffball of hair, but I had a couple direct hits. It was so difficult to maintain a straight face while she looked frantically around, wondering what was bombarding her and where it was coming from. Finally she put two and two together and stood on a chair, pointing at me, and drawing her hand across her throat in the universal sign for "cut it out" (or in her case, maybe she intended it as an "I'll cut your jugular" kind of threat). I gave her my best innocent, what the hell are you talking about, confused face. Then my friend and I turned away, exploded into giggles, and got the hell out of there. It was an evening to remember.
I still can't believe that woman. What planet was she from?
I was at a bar with a couple close girlfriends and a few guys who were varying degrees of acquaintance milled nearby. I was already a smidge annoyed because someone practically climbed on top of me to order her drink, so I gently nudged her away from me, and she got an attitude about it. She asked me not to touch her. Um, who touched whom first? I wouldn't be touching you to indicate you need to back the fuck off if you hadn't initiated it by jostling me. Hello, personal space, people! I spied an empty barstool, and knew it wouldn't be empty for long if I didn't grab it. I made sure no one standing near it had momentarily vacated (to pay for a drink or whatever) but the coast appeared clear, and I plopped down. Relaxed. Breathed easy. A looooong time later, a woman I've never seen before comes right up to me, looking puzzled. I gave her an equally puzzled look back and she said to me "I got up to go to the bathroom, you are in my seat" I said, "exactly, YOU got up, and it isn't YOUR seat...but I'll be nice and share the seat with you" in the name of drunken diplomacy, because I figured anyone deluded enough to think a stool was theirs for the night was probably a little unstable. I graciously scooted over and she arranged her much more ample behind onto the seat. One of the guys we were with asked me "who is that?" and I rolled my eyes and told him "she thinks it is HER seat" and we laughed. Her gross frizzy yet coated in product hair kept brushing my arm and back which is one of the things I hate when I'm at a bar (damaged, split-ended hair that feels like straw being flicked around and brushing against me. ew. get a trim, every six weeks. use conditioner. it isn't that hard!). Her fat ass kept pressing against me, too. But like the martyr I am, I tolerated it for what I felt was the greater good. As we'll soon see, no good deed goes unpunished.
The girl mercifully got up again, not saying a word to me (yes, not even THANK YOU because I certainly wasn't obligated to share, but whatever, at least she was gone). I invited one of my friends to sit with me, considering both our asses (and senses of entitlement) together were smaller than the woman's. And I don't mind being in close proximity to people when I enjoy their company. Everything is merry and jolly for quite awhile. Then I have the SAME unhappy woman in my face again. She wasn't even as polite (which granted isn't saying much) this encounter. She tapped me on the shoulder (oh, the unwanted touching! multiple batteries in one night!) and said "you two need to get out of my chair" At this point I was a little fed up, so I stood my ground. I flatly told her "No, we aren't moving. You've left TWICE. You cannot seriously expect this chair to be here when you return, this is a crowded bar so when you get up you forfeit it, and it doesn't have your fucking name on it. So go away. Leave us alone" (yes, I actually said all this - go me) For a second she was stunned, because she was probably used to heaving her bulk around and getting her way after some histrionics. I thought she got my message, loud and clear. THEN she gets on the other side of my friend and SHOVES us both off the chair with her huge hips. The stools were tallish so we're lucky we didn't get hurt, being surprised and considering the distance to potentially stumble. Luckily I landed on my feet, even though I was wearing four inch heels and could have easily twisted an ankle. It caught me off guard so I just stood there with my mouth gaping open, incredulous. My friend had faster, more vengeful reflexes. She threw the remainder of her drink at the bitch. HA! Survival instinct at its finest.
The woman apparently was ready to defend "her" chair to the death, because she immediately threw her full drink back at my friend. The area of the crowded bar near us came to a halt, this was an upscale place and not where brawls regularly occur. Strangers who saw the whole thing happen kept coming up to us and asking what the woman's problem was. And I, in my indignant state, answered "I don't know what her problem is, she looks forty, you'd think being that old she would understand normal bar etiquette" I really didn't get it. I've been going to bars since I was underage and I would never dream of behaving like that woman and demanding a chair I vacated. Who would? A really sweet girl brought my friend napkins, and I asked her whether she worked there. She didn't, she was just being nice. I told her too bad because I wanted someone to throw that crazy bitch out. The girl said she was sorry she couldn't. My other friend said, "that woman IS obviously crazy, like clinically, let's just get the hell out of here" Then she tried to tell me the woman had a foreign accent and wasn't American and probably didn't understand. I'm sorry but manners are universal. I didn't want to go because I don't back down to people's tantrums (won't I be a great parent? ha ha I'll probably end up doing the opposite - caving and feeding my kid candy whenever it cries) and didn't want to appear cowardly. We were right, she was wrong, simple as that. At that moment, I understood how people can haul off and get into fist fights, especially with the ol' liquid courage pumping through the veins. I'm not violent at all, but the urge to strike this woman overwhelmed me. I felt riled up, and I said out loud "I work out. I could take her. She might be a LOT bigger than me, but she is out of shape, I'll win." My other friend saw that I was only half-kidding, sensed the rage building and offered a little advice that probably kept us all out of jail. "She is clearly ghetto and psycho. Don't stoop to her level. Plus she could have a knife or something" and I had to soberly concur with her reasoning. The friend who was also displaced felt differently, and wanted us to go over there and tag team her. It was hilarious, she delivered the plan: "you pull her hair, and I'll punch her" in an earnest tone.
The two of us decided we had to retaliate a little before making our departure. At that point, a crush of people separated us from the woman, but we could still see her. And she kept looking over at us (yeah, she better be watching her back!) My friend gave me the ice in her cup, and I took it back to the sixth grade and sneakily threw pieces at her. A few bounced off or got tangled in her nasty puffball of hair, but I had a couple direct hits. It was so difficult to maintain a straight face while she looked frantically around, wondering what was bombarding her and where it was coming from. Finally she put two and two together and stood on a chair, pointing at me, and drawing her hand across her throat in the universal sign for "cut it out" (or in her case, maybe she intended it as an "I'll cut your jugular" kind of threat). I gave her my best innocent, what the hell are you talking about, confused face. Then my friend and I turned away, exploded into giggles, and got the hell out of there. It was an evening to remember.
I still can't believe that woman. What planet was she from?
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