Oh hells no…
Out last night in a few places and having a good time with the girls.
Got to venue number two and start to scope out some choices for my girl (I love to play wingman). We see a few but it’s kinda hard as some seem a little more drunk than they should be.
The HE walks in.
Oh. Hello. Almost pulled a 360 degree “Exorcist” with my head to watch him walk by… Alex the bartender is in agreement.
Now, the approach for me is a little more difficult. On behalf of another…no problem! Me? Uh…But, we do move closer to where they are, conveniently enough there’s an empty table. But I don’t make eye contact or anything. One of his boys approaches my girl to ask where coat check is (uhm…follow the big neon sign that says “coat check”? lol)and they leave and come back – with their coats.
Then the house music comes on and I forget all about HIM (house music is my drug of choice). And then one of his other friends approaches us when we take a break and I’m sitting on a ledge on the wall. I’m in good spirits…then this guy ruins it.
Asks if we’re having a good time, then asks if we’re from “the suburbs”
I’m a city girl, born and raised. Three weeks ago, I took the GO train for the first time in about 20 years. But I look suburban to your Ed Hardy wearing ass? Strike 1.
He says that his name is Olivier and he’s originally from MTL. I mock a broken heart and explain that I’m offended about the suburban remark. I need to know, what about us looked “suburban”? Explains that he hasn’t seen us at this club before and that we look “different”.
(uh, was here a few weeks ago, the bartender’s an old friend, even one of the bouncers knows my ID by heart…I’ve never seen YOU before)
I point out my snakeskin print pumps (purchased in Montreal)and say “do these look suburban to you?” (he said “a little”)
He then tries to guess where I’m from in the city.
No. No. No. Strike two.
I say “you’re insulting me…” he says “I’m just joking…” I say “this is how you pick up women? With insults?” Because, Chris Rock makes jokes, you’re just being dumb sweetie.”
My girl is gleefully wondering when the giant cocktail ring on my hand is going to make contact with his face. When I tell him where I live (which, admittedly is a nice ‘hood) he says “did you have to think about that for a minute?” (blank stare from me) “oh so you’re going to say you live in the rich part of town?”
I look and him and say “strike three.“
So that’s when HE decides to step in. Yes, the original hottie. Asking if we’re alright and is his friend bothering us.
Me: “he’s insulting”
HE effectively goes in for the block and we start talking. This is so much better!
I tell him my name is Roc (i.e. gave my nickname only)and his response is “oh! Like ‘The Rock’? My response was “yes, except I don’t cook” (i.e. “do you smell what The Rock is cooking?
Oh! Well what told me to say that? HE went on a 5-minute diatribe about why this is a tragedy. Some highlights:(these are verbatim quotes)
“What about tradition? Rice and Peas? Jerk Chicken?”
“What about passing our culture on to your children? You want to have kids, right?”
“…for instance, I would want my son to know how to fix a roof, repairs around the house and my daughter – not that I’m expecting you to live by the stove, but…”
“I assume you’re some sort of African descent mixture, right?”
“I work 9-5…it’s good to have a home cooked meal…”
“Oh, you’re on some North American bullshit with that ‘not cooking’ stuff”
At this point, he hasn’t even told me his name! He launched right into this.
I AM CANADIAN with Caribbean heritage, both my parents are Black and MY traditions and culture include a lot more than Rice and fucking Peas and Jerk Chicken, it’s none of your goddamn business whether or not I want kids and (this I said to him) I work a lot more than 9-5 and I know how to use power tools bitch. Then I said (when I finally got a chance), “oh, when I said I don’t cook, you assumed I didn’t know how?”
“oh. I know HOW… I just DON’T”
Then he proceeded to quiz me on what I know how to make. And then suggested that we get friends together to cook a meal – he’ll help.
You are put on the disabled list, sit out the rest of the season on the bench, punk.
My poor girl is fending off some others while I have a debate with this sexist shit who finally told me his name, but luckily a dark knight cockblocked with the “I haven’t seen you in so long! Gimme a hug” move… bless his heart.
Moral of the story? There isn’t one… I just had to vent.
okay, maybe there’s two:
1 – don’t use insults to pick up a woman… IT DOES NOT WORK
2 – don’t openly judge a woman within the first 5 minutes based on an innocuous comment…
oh, okay one more
don’t brag about effectively cockblocking your boy to get to me (yes, Batter #2 did this)