Female seducer Mystery from VH1's The Pick Up Artist had better stop teaching neurotic men that being obnoxious is the way to bag a date.
My girlfriends and I were having a girls night out. "It's a girls night out," we all must've said to various guys a million times.
"Ooh, what are you ladies doing tonight?" they would ask.
It's our annual quilting meeting... What the hell do you think we're doing, jerkoffs?!
But it was one man who stood out the most. I'll call him "Blazer."
At a table across from us, Blazer was hanging out with his friends, or we think they were his friends. Eyeing our table of just women, he comes strolling over wearing a tan suede blazer over a black Jockey baby T-shirt...
"Ladies, it's your lucky night because I am here to entertain you."
At first I thought he meant magic, but soon it became clear he had absolutely nothing up his sleeve but a bunch of old one-liners. We asked him his name.
"Whatever you want it to be..." We asked him what he does for a living. "Whatever you want me to do..."
I looked around, wondering if there were hidden cameras and if we'd be seeing ourselves on TV later. But if he was really from The Pick Up Artist and he really was underneath Mystery's wing, he would've picked up on the cues for when to gracefully bow out and leave us be.
Asking who was married or taken, me and my friend "Yanim" quickly raised our hands.
Strangely, he kept pursuing Yanim, asking her why she wasn't living life to the fullest and even going as far as to demand why her husband wasn't here with her right now if they loved each other so much.
"Her husband is super tall," we all chimed in. "He's like, 6'2" or something. And unbelievably handsome. He's ripped, too." So what if some of it was a lie. He just looked at us as if we were the ones who were crazy.
Note to guys: Trying to belittle a girl is NOT the best route to go when first meeting her.
For about a good 15 minutes he stood there as nobody talked to him, even after he had bought us a round of Raspberry martinis. Feeling guilty, I finally asked him a question. "Do you work in the area?" He nodded. "Battelle?" I asked.
Instead of giving a simple yes or no answer, he then went on about how he makes a lot of money and how they flew him over here to be a manager and blah blah blah. One of my biggest pet peeves is when someone floats their own boat, so I decided to take him down a peg.
"Well, keep your options open because you'll probably get laid off," I grinned. He didn't like that. "Where are you from anyway?"
"Boston."
"Where's your Boston accent?" I asked, since he was devoid of any east side tongue.
"Are you f-ing kidding me?!" he leaned over the table and started to get in my face. "Where's my f-ing accent?!" I stood my ground and said "Yeah? Where is it?"
"Where the f--- are you from?"
I told him Korea.
"Korea?! Do you even know what a f-ing Boston accent sounds like?!"
Uhh, yeah, otherwise I wouldn't have asked, Blazer.
"Riiiight, just forget about it," he said in a very Godfather-like accent.
Another 15 minutes went by where nobody talked to him. He made one last move that would be his demise.
"You girls are bored out of your f-ing minds!" he declared. "I can't believe how bored you all are - you don't know how to have fun at all!"
This was it. I opened my mouth and engaged in what would hopefully be my last conversation with Blazer.
"We're not bored, it's a GIRLS NIGHT OUT and we were having fun before you came over. Look at you, you're alone on a Friday night wearing a blazer. Why don't you go back over to where your friends are and leave us alone?"
I had never talked to a stranger that way before. At the most I would just roll my eyes when the person wasn't looking. I blame it on his blazer for pushing me over the edge.
He looked puzzled, trying to figure out what to say. "Well, I'm sorry, but I wasn't the one who was asked to come over here," he said.
"Well I'm sorry, but we weren't the ones who ASKED you to come over," I said, glaring directly at him.
"Well, all right then," he shrugged, but still stayed at our table.
"Yeah, all right then," I mimicked, downing the rest of my free martini. I had been saving half of it just in case I would have to throw it on him.
Blazer finally left when we all were picking up our coats and getting ready to leave. It was a hasty retreat where he didn't even try to hug us or get our numbers. Maybe he had sobered up. Maybe he felt embarrassed. Maybe his friends dared him to be as annoying as humanly possible and were waiting for him outside.
As we all were heading to our cars, we had the same reaction: What the hell just happened? Who was that guy?
Now don't get me wrong - I appreciate when a man has some stones to walk up to a woman (or even a group of women) and try to initiate a conversation. It's not an easy thing to do. However, I don't appreciate being accosted by some punk ass nobody who insults us in an effort to try and get with one of us.
Men, if you see a group of women at a bar who have no interest in dealing with the opposite sex that evening - just say no and don't approach them. It's for the best.