Sunday March 2nd, 2003
Go out with work peeps
I am a fucking idiot.
Here is a little tip for everyone reading: If you're going to go out with people you work with, don't drink too much. It wasn't a complete fuck up like it could've been, but it was close. I was hitting on Susan, (the girl from work) hardcore. She was really flirty and suckin' back apple martini's like they were going out of style. She brought her roommate, a schoolteacher with all the sex appeal of your average lunch lady.
So I'm flirting with Susan and her Drew Cary look-a-like roommate won't stop jumping into the conversation. What makes matters worse is Susan's constantly getting up to answer her cell phone or go to the bathroom. So I'm talking to her roommate in the meantime trying to see if Susan has been talking about me or maybe see if there was any chance of us getting together. This went on for several hours. After one particular phone call she came back from being outside and the conversation went as follows:
Me: "Hey look who's back."
Susan: "Hey how are you two making out?"
Me: "We're doing alright, how about you?"
(Lunch lady leans forward and almost falls, she put her hand on my leg
to keep from hitting the bar. She's obviously drunk.)
Lunch lady: "Yea miss popularity who were you chatting with all this
time?"
Susan: "Ted."
Lunch Lady: "Oh are you going to be sleeping over his place tonight?"
(Susan smiles.)
Susan: "Why, do you want me out of the apartment tonight?"
(Susan looks at me and winks. Lunch lady lets out a little laugh and
touches my leg again, I realize it's not an accident.)
I suddenly know how Ripley must have felt in all those Alien movies. All I wanted to do was fill the room with fire or wake up from the bad dream that had become my life. It's bad enough that hot chicks automatically discount guys who aren't that attractive like myself. It's worse when they think that the fact that I'm not that attractive means I'd want to do the horizontal tango with her Manatee looking roommate.
Now I know what you're thinking. I'm not that attractive, I shouldn't be so picky. You're right, and I'm not that picky. This girl easily weighed at least sixty pounds more than I do, and I'm not the smallest guy around. Her arm was wider than my thigh. Don't get me wrong, I've only really had one girlfriend and she wasn't going to win any beauty contests. Being not all that attractive myself I don't mind a girl who's slightly below average or has a few extra pounds. What I do mind are the girls who think that just because I'm no model myself that I'd want to get it on with a girl that had to have Oprah's help to get out of the house.
