I feel like I did a solid job of not spending too much cash this weekend. This is important, because I'm poor and need to save up for the horrendous security deposits that landlords ask for. I didn't end up going out on Friday because random circumstances with each group of friends caused them not to call back. Some got drunk way too early, some were at small gatherings "not open to others," and another completely lost his phone. Though it was a little frustrating, I still probably saved $30 or so.
My Saturday involved the beach (the second time in this very un-hot summer) and then WestFest on Chicago Ave. WestFest was kind of boring except that we saw the last 45 seconds of Mucca Pazzi. Following the band, we watched part of a DJ set of all the standard club songs you love to hate (And I just hate). During this set, we noticed a woman dancing on stage with her infant. Weird. Soon after, I got a call to meet up with Rob, so I biked over to his place with the intention of meeting up later.
We grabbed some food at Pizza Metro, the best pizza around. Or at least the best pizza in my area. For under $3, you get a pretty liberal slice of pizza that's wildly delicious.
And then we started drinking...lots of cheap beer (PBR only). Usually when I drink a lot, I have a pretty good time. But whenever I get caught up thinking about my string of bad luck with girls (I'm not even going to post a link for this. Just read any post...) I tend to get frustrated and overanalyze a lot. Now I'm not saying that I turn into a crying girl, but I get confused about what I should do.
Case in point:
After our first bar, we went to Rainbo Club. Now, this isn't a club at all, but just a one-room dive bar that probably holds 60 people. When Rob and I walked in, I thought I saw a girl who I'd asked out last October. Long story short, she agreed to go on a date for dinner with me (twice), but flaked out on plans and never returned calls (no date ever took place). I see her every so often, but she acts like she hadn't agreed to anything. Needless to say, I avoid her. It turns out that it was the girl, C. I didn't say hi to her and hadn't any real plan to. As the night wore on, Rob and I drank our fair share of $2 Pabst (Pints, at that. Awesome). Out of nowhere, I see Donna from the train standing around. Since I see her once or twice a week, saying hi is no big deal. Strange thing is Rainbo Club is the last bar I'd expect to see her. Being a Lincoln Park girl, she's usually in that neighborhood drunkenly dancing and paying $5 for beers. Before leaving, Donna sat down with Rob and I to talk a little. During the conversation, she asked Rob if his totally normal looking glasses were prescription, to which he replied "Yes, this isn't Lincoln Park" (Read: Rob automatically didn't like her dumb question).
So there I had it. In one bar stood two girls I'd asked out on dates. One was hip, the other was a female Bro (is that a Sis then?), and neither had wanted anything to do with me. This got my only-realize-how-drunk-you-were-until-next-morning self to thinking: Have I totally struck out with both ends of this social spectrum? Does that mean I'm screwed with everything in the middle, too? Rob said that I was overthinking it and need to just relax. I said (and still think) that if I don't do anything at all, there won't be any girls throwing themselves at me.
The positive thing that came out of the night is that I didn't foolishly text either girl: C because I've deleted her number from my phone, and Donna because I managed to restrain myself.
Rob also mentioned the age-old advice that I shouldn't try to meet girls at bars. What do you think about this? I'm not sure how I feel either way, because if I met a girl at some non-bar location, there's still a pretty high probability that she goes to bars on the weekends.
Also, I found out that one of the front desk girls at my gym met her new boyfriend at the gym. He gave her his number, and she called him. It's a little embarrassing because I did the exact same thing to her (she never called me). When I heard this, I was a little disappointed, thinking that she should've called me, and we would have had a great time. But in general, I'm just glad she called someone back. Now I know that what I did wasn't completely wrong.
Thanks for your encouragement to me, now it's my turn to return the favor.
ReplyDeleteKEEP giving numbers out. It's a relatively quick and painless way of saying you're interested. And even if she doesn't call back, it still makes her feel good about herself.
The thing is, for whatever reason, most of us can't explain why we are "interested" in some guys and not others. It's a just a feeling you get. Yeah, attraction plays a small role, but a lot of other factors work their way in as well. So, if every person who were ever interested had some way of letting me know, soon one of them will catch my fancy as well... and I'd have the courage to do something about it. The only problem is most [nice] guys (and girls for that matter) DON'T drop these obvious hints often enough. So, I feel like the whole slew of us shy/normal people miss so many opportunities just because we don't TELL eachother we're interested.
Whoa, that was long. Sorry.
~E