You’re wearing a brand new Brooks Brothers button-up. Today was the first day all week that you actually used soap in the shower because none of the roommates could be bothered to replace the empty soap bottle. Fresh haircut, new clothes, and you finally don’t smell like a week-old gym sock. In other words, it’s time to start the weekend bar prowl and find another nameless girl to bring home and then awkwardly avoid eye contact with on campus because neither of you remember each other’s names. Don’t get too excited though, because Houston’s got a problem. No matter how high your hopes are, this is how the weekend is actually going to turn out:
-Talk to girls.
-Girls don’t like you.
-You cry. Alone.
-…and then jerk off. But still alone.
What gives? Well, for one thing there’s a better than good chance (and by “better than good” I mean “95%”) you’re fucking up your chances by doing one of these 5 things.
1. Don’t EVER come up with a fake reason to talk to me.
The only reason you should walk up to someone you don’t know and start out with “Hey did you used to lifeguard for Hope Valley Pools?” is if you actually know she did. As in, you recognize her. On the flip side, never-fucking-ever make something up and try to see if it works. A few weeks ago I had some blonde ass-fairy walk up to me and be like “Hey Rebecca!” and I had NO IDEA who he was. He tried to convince me that we’d hooked up last Fall, to which I stared at him and said “No. We didn’t.” After that he stuck his tail between his legs and cried in the corner of the bar repeating silently to himself “I just wanted to talk to her I just wanted to talk to her” over and over. Buddy, I would’ve been HAPPY (okay maybe not happy, probably more “eh fine”) to talk to you if the first thing you’d said to me wasn’t a lie. But now I see you as a creepy weirdo. Who makes shit up. And cries. Everywhere.
Don’t be the lying weirdo that cries everywhere.
2. Don’t buy girls drinks. Ever.
Do girls love drinks? Yes. Do they love free drinks even more? Fuck yes. But you know what I’m going to do if some rando buys me a free drink? I’m going to walk away. Now before everyone gets on the “Rebecca you’re such a bitch ermagherdd” train, I’m not the only chick that does this. Go stake out the bar one night and pretend you’re a sociologist or something. Just watch how many guys get ditched right after delivering one free drank. By my very accurate guesstimation, it’s around 100%. It’s not just because she doesn’t really wanna be around you, it’s because there’s a 99% chance you’re not going to buy her a second drink, so once she gets one what’s the point in talking to you? If she finds you interesting that’s a different story, but if you’re anywhere on the fence then you’re screwed. The better play is to talk to her long enough that she doesn’t think you’re Doofy in disguise…and then still not buy her anything. Exchange a number or something, you’re not a fuckin’ charity worker! Don’t be givin’ out free shit just because you want someone to touch your wiener, because it’s not gonna work.
Oh and in case anyone forgot, this is Doofy.
Don’t be Doofy.
3. Our conversation ended? Good. Now go away.
You know that thing where you’re talking to extended family members and you hit that awkward silence because you’ve run out of PG-rated things to tell your grandma about school, and your grandma is just…old? When that happens with girls, don’t drag it on. Grandma will stand there and keep coming up with things to talk about that you don’t care for while you’re silently coming up with reasons why you need to leave right that second. Bladder problems? Colbert is on? Forgot where you parked your car? It doesn’t matter what it is, as long as it gets you out of this painful convo. And all that shit that just went through your head? Yeah, that poor girl you cornered off away from her friends at the bar is thinking the same thing, except hers comes with a bonus “Talking to this guy is worse than eating a cat shit smoothie.” Don’t be a cat shit smoothie. If it’s not flowing, then take a cue from Frozen and let it go.
4. Your friends are a reflection of you, so I hope they’re not a barrel of boners.
Let me tell you a story of how shitty me and my friends are. One year we went to Mexico for spring break and we met this kid. He was cute, not weird, not fat, and generally pleasant to talk to. The only odd thing was that he was at the hotel by himself, but his reason for it was that his flight was earlier than his friends’ flights, so they’d be arriving the next morning. Okay cool whatever, hit us up tomorrow morning because I’m half a drink away from blacking out and turning into Doofy. Next morning comes and he walks up to us at the pool…but something’s different. Dark clouds are beginning to form on the horizon. The pool water instantly became ice-cold, and suddenly a HUGE FUCKING HOLE appeared in the middle of the beach and motherfucking Godzilla climbed out and started eating peopl- oh wait no. That was a different time the world ended. This time the world ended it was because the cool kid from the hotel lobby brought a herd of whales with him that assaulted the poolside snack station and started flinging ketchup everywhere. As you can see my criteria for the world ending is pretty low, but I was genuinely concerned that these hamplanets would trigger an earthquake and we’d all die a fiery death. One ham was mashing four hotdogs into his mouth at once, which was nice because the other two guys had finished three cheeseburgers by the time they’d walked the 10 feet over to where we were sitting. Were we good people? Did we decide to hang out with cool kid despite his disgusting friends? FUCK to the NO. Maybe if they were only a little gross, but these guys took the entire cake. I’m not kidding, there was a buffet one night and they ate the whole cake. The point is, if your friends are heinous, you’re not getting anywhere near my anus (just go with it).
5. I don’t want to see you sluttin’ around all night and then expecting the V.
Probably one of the top 5 most annoying things about meeting guys out at night is when you exchange numbers and then see the same guy trying to grab numbers from 10 other girls, or you see him shoving his tongue into someone else’s mouth like a hungry beaver. It’s not that I’m sitting here thinking you’re some sort of Prince Charming and we’re going to get married, it’s that…well, okay that’s sort of the reason. Every time a girl gives out a number the thought goes through her head, no matter how quickly she pushes it down and tells herself differently, that “Maybe this will lead somewhere special :)” But then she sees you devouring someone’s face like you’re an extra from Dawn of the Dead. Yeah, you just killed that vibe. With a machete…and then you pooped on its corpse. There’s nothing wrong with talking with other chicks, in fact it’s a good thing. It shows that you’re not clingy and stuck to one girl all night. But when you take it 50 steps further and turn into “that girl” at the party? The one whose shirt is half off with a double nip slip because she’s literally begging for to get laid? Yeah, that’s just as unattractive when men do it as when girls do it. The chances of us bangin’ it out at some point just turned to 0.