Pssst…have you listened to Part A yet? The shenanigans continue in the second hour of our Tinder Party… “I just want people listening know we are actually headed straight to church after this…” “Did you hit ‘like’?” “No” “Can I??” … Continue reading
Last night, I saw a wingman formation that was like an air show gone bad…
All lined up. Target in sight. But, instead of a successful manoeuvre, I watched the wing catch on fire and the pilot almost crash and burn.
Okay. Enough of sounding like I just watched Top Gun.
Four guys walk into the bar. They were:
Single Guy (aka the Pilot)
Married GO Train Guy*
The Party Starter.
Our boys looked like they had just finished work in the financial district; their ties weren’t even undone. Over by me were two girlfriends out for the night. A Brunette and a Blonde.
Our Single Guy spots the Brunette and starts with the general small talk chit chat. She’s receptive. She’s responding. She’s conversing. Eye contact. Body language. All good. Target is in sight.
The Married Guy and the Married GO Train guy are hanging back, talking to each other, keeping their drinks fresh. Unfortunately, the Blonde looks bored; she can, with one trip to the bathroom ruin the whole mission.
As I’ve said before, when choosing your wingman, you should always choose one who is going to make you look good. Not look good by comparison – there IS a difference – but make you look good not only to the female in your sights, but to her friend standing beside her. This, dear boys, is where our Single Guy failed.
Enter the Party Starter…
Of the four, he was the worst dressed. Couldn’t even suit it up correctly (but that’s a post for another day). Yes, the music was mediocre, but that did not give him an excuse to do a variation of the chicken dance – especially since no one else in the room was dancing. He’s calling unnecessary attention to himself and trying to chat up the Blonde at the same time. I know that some will advise that your wingman should distract the friend, but this was TOO distracting; his goofball antics where pissing the friend off.
Our Single Guy soldiered on. Focusing all his attention on the Brunette, they seemed to be hitting it off. But the Party Starter…? He just kept trying to liven things up. My friend and I sat a few feet away, watching the plane go down.
“The Blonde is NOT happy…”
“Nope. She’s about ready to call it a night. Single Guy is so not getting laid…Oh look, Married GO Train Guy just sent another text to his wife explaining that they’re still ‘out with the client…’”
As if we scripted the moment ourselves, the Blonde – who has had maybe one drink – has to go “to the bathroom” and takes our Brunette with her.
Yes guys, you know we talk about this shit in the bathroom. We also use the “have to go find a friend…” and “just stepping out for a smoke” (when only one of us smokes). These ladies did the walk around (aka “finding a friend”). Where the Brunette spent most of the walk convincing the Blonde to stick it out at little longer, for her sake. Reluctantly they return…
Only to find that the party is just getting started! Back to the chicken dancing! I’m serious about this chicken dancing, by the way. Dude stuck his elbows out, joined his hands in the middle, and moved his elbows to the beat.
The Blonde? Counting down the moments…
My friend and I are feeling really bad for Single Guy. He’s half-heartedly chicken dancing, talking to the Brunette, AND trying to keep the two Married Guys engaged in the conversation.
He’s taken a hit and is spiraling. His wingman?
Talking justalittletooclose to the Blonde, trying to distract her.
The ladies take leave, again. (BAD SIGN, BAD BAD SIGN), and lo and behold, there IS a friend. So now, the ladies are increasing in number and if you don’t count Married GO Train guy standing off to the side texting his wife, they’re even in number. Which, technically means our Single Guy is outnumbered.
He’s going down.
But finally…FINALLY! The Married Guy steps in to introduce himself to the new friend and takes over the conversation! MY friend and I almost high fived each other the way you do when your team is winning. Then, seamlessly, without calling too much attention the situation, Married Guy and Married GO Train Guy lead the Party Starter AWAY from the “party” and do their own walk around.
My friend and I, thinking that the day has been saved and that our Single Guy will be able to chat up the ladies on his own, do our own walk around. Without this crash and burn, the party we’re at continues to be boring. We decide that we’re going to get ready to leave…
The Party Starter returns.
He raises one elbow, then the other…
Puts his arms down.
When we saw them return, the crash junkies that we were, picked a new vantage point to observe. Only to be interrupted by Married GO Train Guy, who, misinterpreting our whole watching them for the last 20 minutes as interest, comes over to make his approach.
“How are you ladies doing tonight? You look bored.”
“So uh what do you do?”
(BAD FIRST QUESTION. BAD BAD BAD. I would prefer “what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” before “what do you do?”)
Name blah blah blah…drink? No. Blah blah blah…why aren’t you drinking? I’m working right now. Oh are you in the business?
(By the way, they DID work in Finance)
“I’m an anthropologist.”
“Really? What work could you do here?”
“Observe human behaviour.”
“Oh. Well here that’s easy. Mostly people are out to get drunk and get laid…”
“Yeah. And your friend in the grey jacket has been fucking it up for you all night.”
A moment of shock, then Married GO Train Guy starts laughing. “You’re so right! You hit it on the nose! You’re good.”
Offers a drink again from their bottle service. We decline, and decide that this would be the perfect time to leave. Except…that fucking chicken dance!
I feel really bad for Single Guy. He hasn’t fully turned the situation back around…yet.
So… I walk over to where he and Married GO Train Guy are talking. Upon seeing me stand beside him, he snakes his arm around my waist as if to say, “so you do like my Married GO Train friend here!”
I clap him on the shoulder with one hand, remove his hand from my waist with the other and say:
“The Brunette is very lovely. I think you still have a chance. Get rid of the guy in the grey jacket. Your friend will explain why I’m telling you this…”
Then, we went home.
*NB: (for my non-Ontario readers, the GO Train is a commuter train that takes you from the city’s core to suburbs and outer lying areas. For a Downtown dweller like me, I feel bad for those who must live plan their social lives around not missing the last train…)