Friday, November 05, 2004
Saturday night I went out for drinks with a couple of guys from school, I hadn’t planned on staying out late, after all, I had a midterm to study for. We talked about video games, baseball, and typical guy stuff… at one point the conversation turned to the girls in our class. We decided to give them a few calls, and invite them to join us. Soon we were joined by 4 more girls. This was going to be a bigger night than just a beer and watching the ballgame. The girls were dressed up for a night on the town.
The girls weren’t making much of an effort to talk at first, but a couple of drinks loosened everybody up and soon we were talking about school, cell phones, travel, and such. I was feeling pretty good and got a few laughs with an impersonation of the ‘Crocodile Hunter’. My ego had just reached it’s proper size and it was only 10:30.
We walked a couple of blocks to ‘The Yardhouse’, an upscale cocktail bar with lots of chrome, neon, and people dressed very well. The doorman stopped our group and said “Sorry, we’re at capacity right now, as soon as some people leave, I can let you in.”.
“Sounds fair” I said, as a couple of people left.
“How many in your group?” he asked..
“Eight”
“Well, you’ll have to wait then. Unless you want to break up your group.”
I looked at Sarah, an attractive girl from my classes, and took a chance; “Well, we are the best looking two, We should probably just go in.”
She giggled and we stepped through the doorway. I couldn’t believe my luck! I followed her in and glanced back at the shocked faces of my friends still waiting in line.
“Do you think we should wait for them?” she asked.
“Yeah, Let’s wait at the bar” I said. Then I leaned to the bartender and ordered the first two dark rum and cokes.
“16 Dollars” the bartender said, as he slid the drinks across the bar to me.
I paid for the two seriously overpriced drinks (instead of the national debt of Honduras). I turned to the Sarah, and we began sharing stories of recent dating/ relationship experiences.
She told me of how when she was 22, all she wanted was to meet a guy who would marry her so she wouldn’t have to work and could ride her horses in her spare time. I remembered a girl in my past who thought that marriage would let her follow her dreams. I made the point I felt needed to be made. “If you view marriage as a way to let you ride horses, that’s the wrong reason to marry.”
“But now” She agreed “I’m smarter. I’m looking for a guy who already has his own stuff. I don’t want to go through the stress of buying a car, house, or furniture in a relationship.”
I was stunned. This vapid beauty had never mentioned love as any part of what she looked for in relationships. She wanted to be a trophy wife. From now on, every time I looked at her I saw ‘High Maintenance’. Not the girl for me.
The rest of our friends were coming in from the line and joined up with us. I was thankful to have more people to talk to before I said something I might regret. We all moved to a table and continued talking.
After a few minutes I looked across the table and noticed that some of the other girls were drinking shooters and not inviting us!
“Two can play that game!” I said and stepped up to the bar to order a round of shooters for our side of the table. Just as the bartender was asking what kind of shooters I wanted, an asshole showed up and decided to spoil the evening.
That asshole was me.
I could have ordered any shooter at all, but instead of ordering something tasty, or not too strong, I looked the bartender in the eye and said “A round of Werewolves”.
Werewolf (def.):
1: ‘a monster able to change appearance from human to wolf’.
2: ‘one ounce Jack Daniels, one ounce Drambuie. Served in a glass of psychosis. Often accompanied by high volume conversations with mailboxes at 3am.”
A tray of number 2 arrived at our table along with a bill for Eleven Bajillion dollars.
We shot them down, gritted our teeth, and waited to see if they were going to come back up.
Regrettably, they didn’t.
The transformation from good to evil was on its way. I decided that if the night continued at this bar, my credit rating would be permanently damaged. My ego was starting to inflate.
See, for most people, the more they drink, the better looking other people become. For me, the more I drink, the better looking I think I am. As the shooters started to work, I was becoming more and more arrogant
We wandered out to the Rose and Crown, a friendly pub with a live band. We switched back to beer I scouted out some seats for us.
Wandering around the bar, I didn’t see anyone I recognized, so I said hi to everyone I could as I walked past and made eye contact. A couple of girls noticed me and smiled. My ego was quickly becoming over inflated to dangerous levels. Anyone who wasn’t talking to me was probably just intimidated by my good looks.
I was feeling really good. The headache I would endure for this behaviour was still at least 12 hours away. I gathered our group and we sat in the upstairs lounge where the volume was perfect for us to talk while listening to the band. I found a high backed, leather chair and sat down. It was the only leather chair in the room. I was drunk and was not about to give it up to anyone unless they were better looking than me.
I checked around, there wasn’t. My ego had attained critical mass. It needed to correct itself in a hurry or I would start to believe I could stop traffic.
I ended up talking to Sarah again. I asked her about her relationship issues, I was starting to sense that she was into me, (although that could have just been the drinks) and the next step for me would be to show a genuine interest in her and she would be putty in my hands.
“So, you broke up with your boyfriend, was that because he didn’t’ want the same things as you?”
She said “yeah, Exactly” In a vapid sort of way” And not only that, he cheated on me. And the girl he cheated on me with was totally . like . fat.
My ego had found it’s release…and was about to self-correct:
“Wow” I responded through the Jack Daniels and Drambuie, “You musht have been crap in bed for him to think that a fat, ugly girl was better than you”
The Asshole Chronicles Part - II
The next day was Sunday. I awoke late and with a small headache. And a bad, bad feeling. A feeling like I had to apologize to someone. Or maybe multiple people. I tried to think of what I might have done, but thinking was only making my headache worse.
Later that day, the guilty feeling had gotten worse and so had my headache. I started listing off the people that I was out with. There were a few, if I had done something bad, It would ruin my classmates’ opinion of me, which would affect the rest of the school year. I hoped I hadn’t done anything too extreme, but the last time I felt this much guilt, I had taken a dump in a co-worker’s fish tank.
So Monday, on my way to school, I was reminding myself to find some time to do this apology. I was feeling better; I couldn’t have done anything too crazy. And I’m sure that they would forgive me. The car in front of me had a little fish shaped sticker on its bumper with the word ‘Jesus’ written inside it.
That got me to thinking, I decided to apologize to the last few girls that I remember being with. Something along the lines of:
“Saturday night was fun. But I didn’t do anything to offend you did I? I think I had too much to drink.”
That way, they would be able to tell me that either:
a) I hadn’t offended them, or:
b) I had taken a dump in her purse.
I got to class, and as I was sitting down, I ran that line past one of the students that was out on Saturday night… A shorter girl with the kind of big hair that you would expect from a beauty salon in Texas. Janice smiled and said “no.. you didn’t do anything to offend…..” she paused before continuing, “me”.
Uh oh… I had apparently offended someone. Just not Janice. The stories were already spreading. I had to do damage control immediately. I tried to make a few guesses, but still couldn’t remember. I tried the line on another girl and got much the same response.
The last class of the day started… The lecture went on, I took notes, and after a while, my mind started to wander. I started to piece together the evening in question and the turning point that occurred with the tray of shooters.
Just as class was ending, it became clear what I had done. I remembered it clearly. (that’s why you got the first story). I had definitely offended Sarah. I knew not only because of the process of elimination, but because she gave me a cold stare half way through class.
Sarah was already starting to pack up. I knew that if I didn’t apologize, she would be out the door and I’d have let my chance slip by.
“SARAH!!” I called out. “I’M SORRY I SAID YOU WERE CRAP IN BED ON SATURDAY. I’M SURE YOU’RE REALLY GOOD IN BED USUALLY, PROBABLY BETTER THAN A PORN STAR"
The entire room fell silent. Apparently class wasn’t over….I had just interrupted it. Sarah was running out the door in tears. I had done more damage to her self-esteem than could ever be corrected with years of therapy and medication.
The classmates looked at me. All 22 of them. The professor did as well.
“What?” I shrugged. “I’m pretty sure that’s what Jesus would have done.”
The girls weren’t making much of an effort to talk at first, but a couple of drinks loosened everybody up and soon we were talking about school, cell phones, travel, and such. I was feeling pretty good and got a few laughs with an impersonation of the ‘Crocodile Hunter’. My ego had just reached it’s proper size and it was only 10:30.
We walked a couple of blocks to ‘The Yardhouse’, an upscale cocktail bar with lots of chrome, neon, and people dressed very well. The doorman stopped our group and said “Sorry, we’re at capacity right now, as soon as some people leave, I can let you in.”.
“Sounds fair” I said, as a couple of people left.
“How many in your group?” he asked..
“Eight”
“Well, you’ll have to wait then. Unless you want to break up your group.”
I looked at Sarah, an attractive girl from my classes, and took a chance; “Well, we are the best looking two, We should probably just go in.”
She giggled and we stepped through the doorway. I couldn’t believe my luck! I followed her in and glanced back at the shocked faces of my friends still waiting in line.
“Do you think we should wait for them?” she asked.
“Yeah, Let’s wait at the bar” I said. Then I leaned to the bartender and ordered the first two dark rum and cokes.
“16 Dollars” the bartender said, as he slid the drinks across the bar to me.
I paid for the two seriously overpriced drinks (instead of the national debt of Honduras). I turned to the Sarah, and we began sharing stories of recent dating/ relationship experiences.
She told me of how when she was 22, all she wanted was to meet a guy who would marry her so she wouldn’t have to work and could ride her horses in her spare time. I remembered a girl in my past who thought that marriage would let her follow her dreams. I made the point I felt needed to be made. “If you view marriage as a way to let you ride horses, that’s the wrong reason to marry.”
“But now” She agreed “I’m smarter. I’m looking for a guy who already has his own stuff. I don’t want to go through the stress of buying a car, house, or furniture in a relationship.”
I was stunned. This vapid beauty had never mentioned love as any part of what she looked for in relationships. She wanted to be a trophy wife. From now on, every time I looked at her I saw ‘High Maintenance’. Not the girl for me.
The rest of our friends were coming in from the line and joined up with us. I was thankful to have more people to talk to before I said something I might regret. We all moved to a table and continued talking.
After a few minutes I looked across the table and noticed that some of the other girls were drinking shooters and not inviting us!
“Two can play that game!” I said and stepped up to the bar to order a round of shooters for our side of the table. Just as the bartender was asking what kind of shooters I wanted, an asshole showed up and decided to spoil the evening.
That asshole was me.
I could have ordered any shooter at all, but instead of ordering something tasty, or not too strong, I looked the bartender in the eye and said “A round of Werewolves”.
Werewolf (def.):
1: ‘a monster able to change appearance from human to wolf’.
2: ‘one ounce Jack Daniels, one ounce Drambuie. Served in a glass of psychosis. Often accompanied by high volume conversations with mailboxes at 3am.”
A tray of number 2 arrived at our table along with a bill for Eleven Bajillion dollars.
We shot them down, gritted our teeth, and waited to see if they were going to come back up.
Regrettably, they didn’t.
The transformation from good to evil was on its way. I decided that if the night continued at this bar, my credit rating would be permanently damaged. My ego was starting to inflate.
See, for most people, the more they drink, the better looking other people become. For me, the more I drink, the better looking I think I am. As the shooters started to work, I was becoming more and more arrogant
We wandered out to the Rose and Crown, a friendly pub with a live band. We switched back to beer I scouted out some seats for us.
Wandering around the bar, I didn’t see anyone I recognized, so I said hi to everyone I could as I walked past and made eye contact. A couple of girls noticed me and smiled. My ego was quickly becoming over inflated to dangerous levels. Anyone who wasn’t talking to me was probably just intimidated by my good looks.
I was feeling really good. The headache I would endure for this behaviour was still at least 12 hours away. I gathered our group and we sat in the upstairs lounge where the volume was perfect for us to talk while listening to the band. I found a high backed, leather chair and sat down. It was the only leather chair in the room. I was drunk and was not about to give it up to anyone unless they were better looking than me.
I checked around, there wasn’t. My ego had attained critical mass. It needed to correct itself in a hurry or I would start to believe I could stop traffic.
I ended up talking to Sarah again. I asked her about her relationship issues, I was starting to sense that she was into me, (although that could have just been the drinks) and the next step for me would be to show a genuine interest in her and she would be putty in my hands.
“So, you broke up with your boyfriend, was that because he didn’t’ want the same things as you?”
She said “yeah, Exactly” In a vapid sort of way” And not only that, he cheated on me. And the girl he cheated on me with was totally . like . fat.
My ego had found it’s release…and was about to self-correct:
“Wow” I responded through the Jack Daniels and Drambuie, “You musht have been crap in bed for him to think that a fat, ugly girl was better than you”
The Asshole Chronicles Part - II
The next day was Sunday. I awoke late and with a small headache. And a bad, bad feeling. A feeling like I had to apologize to someone. Or maybe multiple people. I tried to think of what I might have done, but thinking was only making my headache worse.
Later that day, the guilty feeling had gotten worse and so had my headache. I started listing off the people that I was out with. There were a few, if I had done something bad, It would ruin my classmates’ opinion of me, which would affect the rest of the school year. I hoped I hadn’t done anything too extreme, but the last time I felt this much guilt, I had taken a dump in a co-worker’s fish tank.
So Monday, on my way to school, I was reminding myself to find some time to do this apology. I was feeling better; I couldn’t have done anything too crazy. And I’m sure that they would forgive me. The car in front of me had a little fish shaped sticker on its bumper with the word ‘Jesus’ written inside it.
That got me to thinking, I decided to apologize to the last few girls that I remember being with. Something along the lines of:
“Saturday night was fun. But I didn’t do anything to offend you did I? I think I had too much to drink.”
That way, they would be able to tell me that either:
a) I hadn’t offended them, or:
b) I had taken a dump in her purse.
I got to class, and as I was sitting down, I ran that line past one of the students that was out on Saturday night… A shorter girl with the kind of big hair that you would expect from a beauty salon in Texas. Janice smiled and said “no.. you didn’t do anything to offend…..” she paused before continuing, “me”.
Uh oh… I had apparently offended someone. Just not Janice. The stories were already spreading. I had to do damage control immediately. I tried to make a few guesses, but still couldn’t remember. I tried the line on another girl and got much the same response.
The last class of the day started… The lecture went on, I took notes, and after a while, my mind started to wander. I started to piece together the evening in question and the turning point that occurred with the tray of shooters.
Just as class was ending, it became clear what I had done. I remembered it clearly. (that’s why you got the first story). I had definitely offended Sarah. I knew not only because of the process of elimination, but because she gave me a cold stare half way through class.
Sarah was already starting to pack up. I knew that if I didn’t apologize, she would be out the door and I’d have let my chance slip by.
“SARAH!!” I called out. “I’M SORRY I SAID YOU WERE CRAP IN BED ON SATURDAY. I’M SURE YOU’RE REALLY GOOD IN BED USUALLY, PROBABLY BETTER THAN A PORN STAR"
The entire room fell silent. Apparently class wasn’t over….I had just interrupted it. Sarah was running out the door in tears. I had done more damage to her self-esteem than could ever be corrected with years of therapy and medication.
The classmates looked at me. All 22 of them. The professor did as well.
“What?” I shrugged. “I’m pretty sure that’s what Jesus would have done.”
