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Yes, I’ll admit it, for years I shopped for my significant other in the seedy, smoky, sweat-filled, shoulder-to-shoulder, move-to-the-drum-beat kinds of places that would charge you a nickel for draft beer and then give you a dollar to hang your undergarments on the rafters – and, well, you do the math. I wasn’t there to hear the band or I would have chosen a group that could actually sing. I wasn’t there for quality time with my friends, or we would have stayed home and eaten Chinese food and watched Bridget Jones Diary for the eleventh time. I was there to find a man. I’m ashamed to admit it but, yes, I was on a mission. My mother cringed in embarrassment, and hoped none of her friends would be driving by to see me through the window, dancing on the bar in my Coyote Ugly tank top, flashing my muffin top to someone in her bridge group whose daughter married a doctor. My father said I was an example of a wasted college education. The ladies next door prayed for me on Wednesdays. My friends – well, who are we kidding – they were right beside me with their own soul mate shopping list. In case you are looking for Mr. Right behind a blinking neon light that says “Nickel Draft” then please take some of my hard-earned advice.
Number one, the bouncer does not have a crush on you – it’s his job to smile and ask to see your license. He has a girlfriend – he always has a girlfriend. Tempting, I know, to make him the object of your affection since you know where you can find him every weekend – but he’s taken.
Number two, it is not cute when you dance around and yell “Woo Hoo!” It is annoying, and it does not help you secure an opportunity with Mr. Right. It does, however guarantee you an opportunity with Mr. Right Now who is looking for the girl who is drunk enough to go home with him. Don’t be that girl. Those stories never end well.
Stop seeing a guy from thirty feet away and “calling” him as yours. That is not only unfair, it is stupid. My girlfriend, Shirley, took three weeks to pick just the right shoes to go with her denim mini-skirt. She researched online fashion tips, asked the opinion of thirty-seven of her closest girlfriends – put her in a bar, and in two seconds she sees cute guy in a blazer three yards away, and she’s threatened bodily harm to anybody who even tries to talk to him.
No, you don’t love him – you just met him ten minutes ago. That guy you are snuggling up to at the bar, the one who has bought you three drinks and told you that you look just like a model – is not who you think he is. He may come across as ruggedly handsome and employed – but I’d bet money that he has hair on his back and lives with his mother in a trailer by the lake.
Whatever you do, do not go home with him. This is dumb, kills your chances at getting anybody worth something, and is dangerous. My friend Janine has thirty-seven virus checkers on her computer, pays monthly for identity theft protection, has a house alarm and a car alarm – and once left the bar with a stranger who said he liked to hang out in the bushes at the park.
It’s not okay to drink and drive. Has nothing to do with meeting men, I just wanted to say that while I was here. Then again, if you drink and drive and hurt someone, you’ll end up in jail – and if you think it’s hard to find a good man in a bar, wait until they are all wearing orange!
write by Amory