Diaries of Ye Old D-Bags: Episode 1

In high school, we dealt with guys that were nuisances and would later find out the reason for all of our torture was actually that the boy had a secret crush on us. This story is not on the high school level.

I’m sure many college women around America have the same issue at their school. Unless they’ve found a good (not just “decent”) guy to date in their glorious undergrad years, most 20-somethings have probably thought, “Man. Are all guys complete (insert derogatory term here)? Or is it just this university!?”
I don’t know the answer to this question. I might have wit and charisma, but I’m not a friggen mind reader. I don’t know everything people. So I can only assume for the rest of this entry that maybe it’s just the TCU population that has an over-abundance of unevolved chimpanzees acting as males (if you believe in evolution. I don’t. Go with it.).
There have been many cases over the past four years I could dabble into. Man, they’re good. But that is neither here nor there. I’ll start with two instances that occurred just last night and reaffirmed the my previous thought of TCU boys.
Just to get this out there, there is a select group of guys on campus who are actually legit. Nice guys, fun to talk to. Chances are if I have spoken to you on more than one occasion that you are not a part of this “chimpanzee” category. So don’t get your panties in a wad just yet. 🙂
Let’s back track to Thursday, when I ventured to Yucatan Taco Stand. Love this place. Boys, it’s a cheap date fo’ sho’; the margs are so strong that I can only stand to have about one. Any more than that is overall just a really terrible choice. They have excellent fish tacos by the way. BACK TO THE POINT. We had a large group of girls, mostly of my pledge class, and we found a big enough table for all 10 of us. As we were sitting, a male in a polo and tight jeans came up (shocked? I’m not), took the chair and pulled it up to a table with his friends. Now, this isn’t a huge deal. He needed a chair. Okay, that’s fine. Except we needed the chair too. Hence why we had the chair at our table in the first place.
I let it go until the rest of our party got there and, lo and behold, we were shy one chair. I looked at Grace as she tried to locate a seat and said, “Hey, that guy behind you took one of ours, just ask for it back. I’m sure he will.” So she does. And then this happened:
(Grace) “Excuse me, but I think this chair was at our table and we need it. Is it okay if I grab it from you?”
(Dumb guy in Polo) Silence. Blank stares.
“It’s just we had just enough chairs for all ten of us and now I don’t have a chair.”
“Oh. Well, it’s my birthday.”
“Yeah. It’s my birthday. What I really want for my birthday is to sit.”
Awkward silence.
Around this point steam was coming out of my ears. I was hoping she would just slap the hell out of him and take the chair. Instead she wished him a Happy Birthday and ran around the bar trying to find a chair.
Like I told a friend of mine sitting next to me, had this been me in this situation, a whole different slew of events would have taken place. Much like this:
“Hi! You took our chair earlier, and we kind of need it because we have a group of lovely ladies sitting over here and now we’re short one chair.”
“Thanks for understanding! Now get up so I can get the chair.”
“Actually, it’s my birthday. And I really want to sit on my birthday.”
“That’s great! Happy Birthday! How old are you? 25? Well, you can’t be 25, because if you were you would have learned a long time ago how a gentleman should act. By the way, I could care less if you want to sit. If that’s the case, sit on the floor where you belong. Furthermore, you could be on fire, and this one chair could be the only way to put you out of your misery, but I still wouldn’t care because I’m a lady and I should be sitting in a chair and not on a friend’s lap.”
Would I have said all of that? Maybe with a few drinks in me. I know when it’s right to be difficult and when it’s not. But seriously, the guy did say he was turning 25. I am a little frightened that men that old would actually have the audacity to make a woman go find a chair and not offer his own! It’s called chivalry, and apparently it’s dead.
Second event: We hit up The Cellar for some karaoke fun. I’m working on a new rap song (hahaha) so I didn’t participate, I just sat and hung out on the couch because I was getting tired and had to go into work the next morning to airbrush some people. So as I’m sitting on the couch watching my friends sing and dance to “Friends in Low Places,” I notice some guy coming up to me. He approaches me, looks nice enough, but then this happened:
“Hey, so, is your boyfriend around here or are you all alone tonight?”
Pause. This is NOT the way to get my attention. That is how you talk to girls who want to roughhouse. I do not. Therefore, I immediately got my fighting gloves out.
“My boyfriend is in Dallas, thanks.”
(Figured this would at least get him out of my way)
“Great!” He takes a seat next to me and proceeds to wrap his arm around my shoulders and starts talking in my ear with really, really foul breath. I can’t remember what he was babbling about because about 2.5 seconds later I told him that just because my boyfriend wasn’t there doesn’t mean I wanted to small talk (or whatever he was thinking). I mean, if he had a girlfriend and some guy did that to her, he probably would have knocked his block off. It was blatant disrespect for the fact that I have a boyfriend. Don’t get me wrong, I have guy friends and I love meeting new people, but not guys who think they’re mightier than thou and can wrap your arms around me like it’s no big deal. Ew.
Anyway, his response to my dismissal was “But I really want to get to know you” and my response was along the lines of “that’s great, but I don’t want to do this. Thanks and have a great night.”
Then what happened next was pretty comical. He got up, called me a few vulgar words and told me I was so ugly that I shouldn’t have a boyfriend. Is that all ya got, low shooter? Man, I really care about what you think. It’s crushing my heart! I got a confirmation that he didn’t go to TCU – he graduated two years before – and I congratulated him and bid him farewell.
You would think that would be it. He’d move on, we’d never have to speak to each other, and my life would be rainbows and lollypops. Until I feel something fly by my head. What’s this? A dollar bill? Haha, that’s clever! You must be insinuating I’m worth a dollar by throwing one at me. So original! I went ahead and turned around, flashed them a smile and threw the dollar bill in my purse. Everyone can use a dollar. It can buy you chapstick, a candy bar, a Dr. Pepper, tacos from Taco Bell – the list goes on. No offense taken.
It was around the point when they threw a quarter at by head that I decided to do something. I won’t get into details, but it ended with the two “men” being “excused” from the bar.
Seriously, I hope these people are a rare breed. I really do. I honestly have faith in mankind that they are exceptions and not the rule, because if they are we’re all sc-rewed.
Thanks for reading. Until next time, besos!

Published by Mentervention

Insert witty description here.

2 thoughts on “Diaries of Ye Old D-Bags: Episode 1

  1. Hmmm…so ugly you shouldn’t have a boyfriend? But he really wanted to get to know you! So what does that say about him? What an ass. And they may not be as rare as we’d like, but they aren’t all there is, either. There are good ones out there. The reason they’re harder to find is that they’re not stupid enough to throw themselves at us the way that creep did. No one should put up with crap like that. Good for you for not letting it get to you and handling yourself not only like a lady, but like a woman.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s