Weekend Observations…

Hello darlings…while I decide on my next post* I thought I’d share a few observations from the weekend. It had been a while since I had been out to just stand on the sidelines and observe, but this is what I saw:

Guys, you’re not in Junior High anymore. I watched a table full of attractive girls who were not approached or even noticed. A whole table? And half of them were wearing animal prints? Okay, animal prints = “I want to be noticed and admired”. I know that a table full of women is intimidating, but that’s when you learn to hone in on one, make eye contact and then approach HER. 

What was so odd is that there were pockets of guys, who just stood in little circles, coming up with (I hope) silly dance moves and basically horse playing. Sigh. I immediately thought of my dances at Jane Junior High. Our teacher, Mr. Brown used to have a “must dance” dance. It was when he’d play a song and you had to dance with a member of the opposite sex, all in the name of interaction; will it have to come to that?

Bad lines can work. ONLY if you deliver them with full deadpan delivery or some sort of irony. I swear I sound like a song stuck on repeat, but you must have confidence. I had one guy say to me “If I try to make out with you, will you call the police?” This was said to me after being around me for a few hours, and with complete (drunken) deadpan delivery. I’m still laughing two days later…The same guy also said to a passing girl “I hear music whenever you walk by…” which got a giggle. His goal was not to get the number, but with music girl, I think he could’ve.

On the other hand, some other guy came up to me like it was the Jr. High dance, nervous and stuttering…I wouldn’t even let him finish his question. I’m grown; nervous isn’t cute. Shy maybe. Nervous? No.

Get yourself a good wingman. This is more important than bottle service, the right clothes or even dancing skills. One girl tried to pick up my friend’s boyfriend and immediately introduced him to her “brother”. She then asked to meet us, and I gave my customary glance hello then  proceeded to observe the “brother”. Eeesh.

She tried to make small talk with my boy, but upon realizing he had a gorgeous girlfriend right beside him, she and her “brother” left. Her brother draped her scarf around her neck, helped her into her jacket (while facing her) and she leaned in to his neck to tell him something. It was waaaay too intimate for brother/sister. It was straight out of Flowers in the Attic. If you’re going to use an opposite sex wingman, be careful of your interactions. I’ve played wingman for many a guy, and never would they interact with me this way. Again, ewwww.

Then there was the other wingman. Oh my dear gawd, he was so bad, that I wanted to step in and assist. Our pilot approached, started the conversation, but the girl had her protection (ak.a. her BFF) at her side; there was no separating them. Enter the wingman…who:

Talked too close…when she’s pulling Matrix-style moves to dodge you, take a step back dammit.

Talked too loud… I could hear him. I was 5 feet away. We were in a club. That’s loud.

He was too touchy (which was the other reason for the Matrix moves). She’s deflected your hands three times now. Stop it you Octo-Bastard.

End result? I watched the BFF clutch to her friend’s arm for dear life and watched two men desperately try to pick up two women who weren’t interested. When you are the wingman you DO NOT try to pick up. If the girl you’re meant to distract responds, it’s a bonus. But this is not your mission. Wingman: 0 Friend: 0 

While I normally don’t do this, LADIES, I have a few words for your asses.

1. Your 3 a.m. Girl tendencies should not be on display at 12: 25

2. This faux lesbian thing is tired and annoying. Men aren’t watching with interest any more. Gaga has out shocked everyone, so you’re late to that party as well… By the way: I got a call from the real lesbians, they’re coming to kick your asses.

3. If you’re going to wear a skirt so short that the whole world has become your gynecologist, you must: never wear control top pantyhose or spanx (we can see it every time you move). Wear a thong. Walk. Do not mince about like Mariah Carey.

4. I firmly believe that there should be some sort of graduated licensing thing for women who wear heels. If you cannot walk in the rain in 4″ heels, you shouldn’t be allowed to buy them. If you cannot walk in them after 3 drinks, you’re not allowed to buy them. If you are flinging them off before you get home, you’re not allowed to buy them.

5. White clothes automatically mean nude undergarments. I don’t care what colour you are. Halter tops need a halter bra.

6. Do not practice your stripper moves right at the entrance of the club while your girlfriend takes pictures. Do NOT practice them to Black Eyed Peas. Do not try to be sexy. If you have to try, then you’re failing. Sexy is a natural state.

7. If you are so drunk that you cannot even walk straight in flats and it’s a little after midnight, stop drinking (that would be Miss #6)

8. This 80’s fashion revival is best left to the experts. The rest of you all look like a bunch of American Apparel rejects with no sense of style

9. Stop it with the tanning. At the rate some of you are going, you will get cancer before you get laid.

That is all.

*next blog post is your choice! The choices are: a) Ms. 2.0 b) Women x P#rn or c) A for Effort? Vote in the comments section or on twitter.

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