Tip #1 for Getting Girls: Don’t EVER be like this

I went out with my girl last night. That’s right – after however many months in Pittsburgh, Chrissy’s finally returned to Massachusetts, and we spent the evening getting drunk and dancing. Nothing beats a girls’ night out.

And it was fun. An impromptu Cambridge pub-crawl ended in downtown Boston with free booze provided by her sister’s bartending boyfriend, and the evening wrapped up with an incredibly ridiculous walk/stumble home. But mostly I’m going to tell you about the T-ride to start off the evening… where we met the model of a man you NEVER want to talk to.

To set the stage:
I don’t have a boyfriend. Some will argue it’s because I’m not easily approachable. (I may or may not have a bit of a bitch side.) Others will argue I talk to more strangers than anyone else – and that’s because I am one of those weirdos who walk down the street smiling, and I always make I contact – even to the men and women walking down the sidewalk beside me. The combination of smile and eye-contact apparently equals an open invitation to converse.

Last night, while waiting for the T, I noticed a reasonably attractive man meandering cluelessly down the platform. I smiled and made eye contact. Big mistake.

He came over with some lame question on how long the train takes. Ok, so he’s not very good at breaking the ice. Chrissy and I took pity, and continued to chat with him. He explained he wasn’t from around here and was meeting all his awesome friends near Park Street. I could tell already he was a big arrogant, but whatever… many men are. Hell, I’ve fallen hard for a couple of extremely arrogant men.

Then he looks at me with this suave smile and says, “Where do you go to school?”

Maybe you had to be there to hear the condescending intonation, but I responded with pleasure and a forced smile, “Oh – I’m out of school, honey.” (That may be the bitch side I mentioned…or the start of it)

“Oh, well, I go to BC.” After this point, I was no longer invited into the conversation he was having with my best friend, who admitted she was still in school. He turned his back to me and stared at her, talking and talking away. The things that came out of his mouth were incredible, pompous, and hilarious.

Somewhere he slipped in – totally in a place where it didn’t belong – that he played minor league baseball. When Chrissy and I obviously weren’t interested in his sports skills, he proceeded to tell us for what team. He then told us that’s why he’s at BC – with a full ride, no less – but he made enough money in the minors that he can easily afford nice things… like his sports car and brand-new apartment, which he needs since he got kicked off of campus in the one semester he’s been at BC. He continued to talk about why he was kicked off, how he’s a wild child, all the while throwing in references to his skills as a pitcher in places they clearly didn’t belong.

He at one point said that UMass was a terrible school, and that’s when Chrissy said she went there. He tried to save himself with, “Oh, but UConn is worse.” I laughed. He had no idea what was coming to him.

Chrissy goes, “Really? Because that’s where my sister goes.” Chrissy was obviously pissed, and I was obviously laughing at him. But he still didn’t give up. (Maybe we ought to give him some credit for his persistence… but honestly, he was just pathetic.)

At a 5-secod break in his arrogant ranting, I quickly struck up a conversation with Chrissy that he clearly couldn’t be a part of. For all intensive purposes, it was about panties or tampons. But none-the-less, he interjected:

“I’m the second oldest of nine children.”

Seriously. Is that something we’re supposed to care about?

And then he proceeded to name them all.

I’m not even kidding.

I thought it couldn’t get any worse. But it did. I rolled my eyes several times right in front of him, and yet he still wouldn’t leave us alone. He was about to get Chrissy’s number when – by the love of God – we arrived in Park Street. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care, or he just wanted to follow Chris and I to whatever party we were going to. No way in hell I was going to let that happen.

He was mid-sentence when I said, all serious- and condescending-like, “This is you’re stop.” That’s one way to halt conversation.

For the first time since the “I go to BC” comment, he looked at me. I continued, “You have to get off now.”

You can always count on me to scare men away, make them feel awkward, and be mean.

But honestly, this time it was completely appropriate.

After he finally left, Chrissy and I laughed about it for a while, and proceeded to have a kick-ass GIRLS’ night out.

Boys – never EVER be like that.
Confidence/Arrogance only gets you so far.