For The Ladies

Posted by E

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

This one's for the ladies.

Saturday night I came across a nice little Belgian bar in Athens. They offered a wide array of beers to choose from, and being a bit of a connoisseur I decided to infiltrate their place of purveyance to negotiate the vending of some hoptacular comestibles. After making my selection I began my normal practice at bars, namely staring around wild eyed while violently shaking my right leg, generally frightening away those who might want to speak with me.

This habit affords a good deal of time for people watching, and it was as a result of this that I was able to intently follow the conversation of the douchebag next to me.

"And what made him a douchebag?", you would rightly ask. Let me tell you.

This "gentleman" was attempting to pick up the young lady sitting to my right. Apparently he picked up on the fact that there was nobody to her right and a shivering madman to her left, so she must be flying solo. (Amazing deductive abilities!) He was attempting to win her heart by demonstrating his high levels of intelligence.

And what did he use to demonstrate this? Did he speak voluminously about the subtleties of various Shakespearean soliloquies? Was it a dissertation on the symbolic meaning of Ahab casting his pipe overboard the Pequod? No. It was a high level discussion of all the various beers for sale at the bar as well as a breakdown of what all these different types of beer were.

I could see the complete lack of interest in the girl's face as he described the difference between an India Pale Ale and a Hefeweizen. Her eyes dulled and lost the flicker of life around the introduction of the lager, and I'm pretty certain I discerned some drool leaking from the corner of her mouth once relative alcohol levels were mentioned.

The whole time I watched this act all I could think of was what a pointless way of trying to impress somebody this was. If I'm just meeting somebody for the first time, I think I could find better ways to attract their attention than to go on and on at length about my knowledge when it comes to DULLING MY BRAIN AND HIDING FROM REALITY.

Ok ladies, you're at the bar enjoying a nice evening out on the town. All of a sudden I appear, collar flipped up, perhaps the first three buttons on my shirt opened so that you can see my gold cross on a chain mingling with my wife beater and overly thick chest hair. Having already made the mistake of establishing eye contact with me, I swoop in for the "ladykill".

"Hey, baby, did you know that the easiest way to tell if your crack has been cut with sodium bicarbonate is by the color? A good cut of crack, and by good I mean a 40/60 split should be somewhat yellowish in color and relatively odorless. Cut it with other chemicals and the rock may take on a little drier countenance, coupled with a lighter color. Smoke some shit like that and you're looking at a 90 second high, tops."

Would that impress you? How about:

"A lot of people eschew using black tar heroin, but this is primarily a kneejerk reaction, as purity levels (particularly in Mexican operations) have continued to increase in recent years. Stick to the China White when you're on the east coast, look for the black tar while on the west."

I have a feeling you would all be as turned off as that poor woman was.

It's a shame that some people can't find any better way of espousing their greatness than pure douchetry.