I thought I’d do something different and engage in a little story time. Last weekend I met a very cute guy (let’s call him Guy for the sake of anonymity) at a bar after playing a show. And me, being human and attracted to cute guys decided I wanted to hang out with Guy. He was cute, and from out of town so if me and my awkwardness crashed and burned, then I really didn’t lose anything did I?
So, here’s where my night takes off. My friend and I are at the bar I played at, and after my show, Guy and I start making conversation. He proposed we move to bar #2. I’m a little hesitant because I have my guitar, but he says it will be really fun and he really thinks I should come. So, again, me being a single gal, gets persuaded by Guy and the proposition of spending an evening with someone I find attractive. I cannot be blamed for my actions as of yet.
So, my friend, Guy and his friends, and myself relocated to bar #2, where things become interesting (please remember my life is remarkably vanilla so “interesting” comes with a little asterisk). I check my guitar in coat check, which if you know me is a lot of commitment because I don’t really let anyone touch my guitar, and spend some time getting to know this boy who I have committed my evening to.
I would also like to interject a new piece of information relevant to this story: I don’t enjoy when boys buy me drinks. I know this is weird and there are at least 20 girls reading this thinking “what the fuck, why do you go to bars?”. It started about a year ago when I realized that my guy friends were paying for my drinks. This wasn’t really fair, we are all in university, working minimum wage jobs. My friends and I are equals yet somehow, they got caught paying all the tabs because they have a Y chromosome. So, I pay for my own drinks 9/10 times. If I’m out with my friends and someone buys a round of drinks, I’m not going to be pretentious and make a big deal, but consistently (especially if I’m out with guy friends) I make an effort to pay for my own booze, or at least buy the next round.
That being said, Guy offered to buy my drinks and I didn’t want to get into a philosophical debate about my drink-buying policy with a stranger at a bar that I was trying to flirt with. I’m not a great flirt, but I know philosophical debates at bars are a pretty big “no”. So, I let Guy buy my drinks (I did offer, and offer, but he said no).
Things are going very well with me and Guy. Guy is being very touchy, so I be very touchy back. Guy says something flirty, so I do my best to muster up something witty in return. I’m really putting my best foot forward here. Until Guy brings up the conversation that ends the whole night:
Guy: So, I really liked your set
Me: Thank you
Guy: You write all your own songs?
Me: Yeah, I really like it
Guy: Can you write a song about me?
Me: Haha, what?
Guy: C’mon you wrote songs about other guys, what did they have to do sleep with you?
Me: I’m sorry, what?
Guy: Haha, it’s no big deal. I want a song, what do I need to do, sleep with you?
And here my friends, is where I take a pause from story time to let everyone know something. If you feel the need to offer sex in EXCHANGE for something, you have crossed a line. Just in case you needed to know where the line in the sand is, it’s right there.
To finish my story, I left briefly after. Guy asked me to stay using the ever-so flattering line “Oh what are you doing? I’m just an asshole when I’m drunk.” On the off chance he ever gets a song, which let’s be honest he got a blog post and he isn’t special enough to get two things, I really don’t think it’s going to be the kind of song he wanted. Sucks to suck.
From me, with love, to you,