I had another blog post written for today. I did. My wife picked it up out of the printer and I told her “you don’t need to read that.” Something happened between when I wrote that and when she discovered it. I spend two hours in a bar. Some of it was spent talking to a friend, but when I first arrived, the bar was crowded. I squeezed in between two guys having dinner and three – young – women. Wow! Three – young – women drinking powerful vodka-based drinks and talking about their boyfriends. Hence the title.
Note: at one point, one of the women apologized for subjecting me to the scathing attack on my gender. I told her that I had always assumed we were doomed when they got together. We laughed, but I was laughing with them. They might have been laughing at me – and – my – kind.
Let’s start with “That date you don’t remember.” It doesn’t matter what event that date was associated with. You don’t remember it and she does. According to the snippets I overheard, it might be the date of your first date. FYI, that wasn’t the day you met her. That wasn’t the day you asked her out. That wasn’t the day you had a cup of coffee with her after class. It was the date of “the date” you know, the time you picked her up and took her out. If you don’t remember the date, you’re toast. If you do remember the date, you’re still toast because you don’t remember where you went, what she wore, what she ate, what she said or what was good and / or bad about that night.
Assuming that you survived the date you don’t remember and you now exist as a “boyfriend” or some other designation, you still have some things to work on. The consensus of the most recent thing that you did wrong was getting that haircut. My editor won’t let me use the language these women used to describe your haircut. This was one of the points where they apologized. I wasn’t offended. I’ve heard worse language, but I will say, if you’re near three women working on a bender, you better be prepared to hear some words. What were you thinking when you got that haircut? Were you trying to look like your friend? Cuz, you should know, he’s a jackass. At least that’s what I’ve been told.
You might have survived the haircut because sooner or later your hair will grow back. However, that stupid shirt you always wear, that has to go. Did your mother give you that when you were 12? That was one of the suggestions. See, when you wore that shirt the day you had coffee, she thought you might have been working out or something before meeting her. She DID NOT think that you had made a conscious decision to wear that shirt. When you showed up in that shirt a second time she was thinking that she didn’t want to be seen with you. If you wear it again, I fear for your life. If you just can’t part with that shirt, I may be able to help. I have shirts like that. Wear it, but before you pick her up, toss that shirt she bought you over the top. Judging from what I heard today, she remembers everything she ever bought you to wear and she remembers every time you didn’t wear them.
Most of the things that had me laughing out loud fall under the broad category of “that thing you said,” but there are quite a few sub-categories. These all trigger memories of the woman I work with who frequently asks me “why do you speak?” Do you know the worst thing you said?
Think hard, you were probably drinking at the time, but did you actually give her advice? You did, didn’t you? You gave her advice about how she should continue living at home and save her money to buy a house. You, the guy who never seems to have any money, who lives in a rat hole with your jackass buddy and wears the same stupid shirt and probably got your hair cut at the barber school (yeah, it’s cumulative), you gave her advice about money. While you were doing that, you committed the cardinal sin of speaking. You sounded like her father.
Just for the record, I have to agree with them. I think I can speak for all fathers when I say that I don’t want you to sound like me. My advice stands on its own. If I tell my daughter something, it’s based on my experience, my wisdom and my insight. If you tell her the same thing, or a similar thing, you diminish me. You drag me down to your level and I might have to come over and bend your car in half, cuz I don’t like you to begin with.
Even if you weren’t trying to sound like her father, or agree with her father, you gave her advice? Do you have a death wish? Advice? The only men who can give women advice are the men who have daughters.
The other thing that you said that was major league stupid was that thing you said about her ex. Pretend he doesn’t exist. Don’t try to be like him. Don’t try to not be like him. Don’t talk about him at all. Ever. In every comparison you can possibly imagine, you lose. He had good attributes, you know. Every subject you can scrounge up will be the one thing he did better than you.
The other two major subjects you have to work on, the last two up for discussion as my friend, and another round of martinis arrived, were your job (or lack thereof) and your attitude about birth control. Dude, why do you speak?