So last night I went to a pub, as I am wont to do, with some friends because hey, drinking alone sucks.
While at the pub I walked up to order a beer for myself as well as some kind of specialty shot with a strange name for my friends and I. There was a group of people in front of me, two drunk dudes and a pretty girl. Blonde, curly hair, blue eyes and a nice smile. I waited patiently for them to conduct their business, which mostly consisted of the dudes trying to put their money back into their wallets and having difficulty accomplishing this simple task. There is no doubt that all they needed was another beer, which they got.
As the guys were struggling with the complexity of opening their wallets and inserting the money they were holding in their hands, the girl said something to me. In Czech. I told her that I don’t speak Czech, but that I speak English. She then switched to English and we started talking. Needless to say, I forgot the name of the shot, but was able to wing it enough that the girl understood what I was talking about and she translated for the bartender. As I was waiting to get my order filled,I kept talking with the girl, her name was Martina (which really comes as no surprise because there are lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of Martinas in the CZ) and I will refer to her as such from here on out.
She asked me what I did and all of that other small talk bs that we have to go through. Ugh, talk about a necessary evil. I hate it. After my order was filled, and just as I was about to return to my friends, Martina asked me if I would go sit outside with her for ten minutes. I told her I would, but I had to take the shots with my friends first. She said okay.
Well, the shot taking took a little longer than anticipated, and Martina poked her head in the room a few times to see if I was still coming outside. She was drunk so I understand what might appear to be controlling/manipulative behavior. Or maybe she just really wanted to talk to me and was afraid that I was just going to ignore her. Anyway…
I went outside and started talking to her. About two minutes into our conversation, one of the drunk guys, presumably having finally got the wallet and money situation worked out, came over and started yelling at me. He was standing behind me and he kind of pushed me. It wasn’t hard, but it was unmistakable in its intent and meaning.
Martina then yelled at him and he slunk away. I asked what all that had been about (as if I didn’t know, but I believe in giving people the opportunity to explain themselves before I jump to any (usually accurate) conclusions). She ignored the question, or pretended not to understand. I don’t exactly remember as by that time I had had a few beers and a few shots. I was feeling good, that is for sure.
I ignored her ignoring of the question. She obviously didn’t want to talk about it, and I had no real reason to press the issue. After all, she and I were just talking, and my friends had come out and joined the campfire (that’s right, there was a campfire in the patio–dirt backyard really–area of this pub. Campfires at bars…just one of the many reasons why the CZ is so cool.) so I wasn’t alone with a strange woman, and a drunk lurking in the corner who obviously wanted to kick my ass for talking to “his woman.”
Martina and I chatted for a bit longer, then she offered to buy me a shot. Well, I did not want to be rude and I do enjoy free booze so I accepted. We went inside and ordered the shots. As we were waiting she gave me a hug and kissed me on that little area where the jaw meets the neck. It could be described as a lingering peck, and if that is not an oxymoron, then apparently I don’t know the definition of that word and should stop using it. She also said, “I like you.”
I told her that I thought she was nice, but that her boyfriend probably wouldn’t be too happy about the hug, or something to that effect. I don’t remember the exact words I used, but that is the gist of what I said. I will admit here that I was fishing for confirmation of what I believed to be true, and she didn’t deny it. She didn’t agree to it, but she smiled and didn’t deny it, and that to me is just the same as admitting that the angry drunk dude was, in fact, her boyfriend.
We drank the shot and went back outside to talk some more. Almost as soon as we had sat down, the boyfriend appeared out of nowhere, and this time he was holding what looked to be a broom handle. He was yelling at me (in Czech) and brandishing the handle menacingly. I was scared, to be sure. Also, I had a flashback to a story that wrote more than a few years ago about two sisters, one of whom beats the other with a broken broom handle. Just one of life’s funny little coincidences, I guess. Martina yelled at him and again off he walked. I then told Martina that it was nice talking to her, but that I was going to rejoin my friends because it was clear that her boyfriend was upset and wanted to hurt me. Again, that is the gist of what was said, a paraphrase, if you will. She still did not deny the boyfriend angle, so I shook her hand (he was still hanging around, playing with the handle, and he looked pretty creepy in the flickering light of the fire) and went to rejoin my friends. End of story.
I am going to go on a bit of a rant in a moment, but before I do, here is a video to give you three readers a chance to recuperate.
I understand being annoyed by the drunk people that you are with, especially when one of them is your bf/gf. I also understand that it is nice to talk to random people, just to see what they have to say. I get all of that. What I don’t understand, though, is why you would intentionally try to pick someone up when you are at a pub with your bf/gf. I mean, it’s hard enough to understand why you would try to pick someone up if you had a bf/gf at all, but to do with them in the vicinity is just plain wrong. It’s cruel to the pickee and it’s cruel to the partner. It’s uncalled for and untoward, and I don’t appreciate it. Sure, I will admit that it was nice to the object of desire of a pretty girl, and I was originally flattered that she tried to pick me up because that shit doesn’t happen to me very often. I think last night was the third time in my entire life. That’s how rare me getting hit on is. I will also admit that the lingering peck was nice, and sent little chills down my spine. You know the kind I’m talking about, don’t pretend that you don’t. However, neither my joy at a pretty girl giving me her unsolicited attention and the pleasure chills are enough to keep me from being bitter about the whole experience. I could have gotten my ass kicked by a dude wielding a broom stick as if he was Officer Timothy Wind and I was Rodney King. I didn’t, but that doesn’t change the fact that it could have happened, and all because a nice looking woman (who happens to be a nurse) engaged me in conversation.
Oh well, at least she didn’t ask me why I don’t have a girlfriend, which is a question that no fewer than two ladies have asked me in the past month and a half, but that is a story and a rant for another time. Until then, I will be considering just continuing my life of unwilling celibacy and not reciprocating any advances, conversational or otherwise, made by pretty girls.
That last sentence probably isn’t true, but one never knows, right?