The Lamest Pick up of the weekend.

I have always wondered why I do not get picked up in clubs.

Today, as I lay in bed, sick as a dog, I am wondering the same thing again.

But do I really want to picked up in clubs? Men drunk, horny and just plain stupid. What do they have to offer that I am interested in? Nothing actually.

This weekend, I was at a house party and I had to deal with one of the few spastic creatures who decided to hit on me.

My friend and I were dancing and this fella comes up to her and asks, "Can I borrow your friend?" and he takes me off to dance.

And all the time, I am thinking.."What about if I wanted to be borrowed?"

Now, as I lay in bed, I can think of so many things I should have done and said to him. But at that time, of cos, I did not think of anything smart.

We danced, and then I decided to walk away towards my friends. (Okay, I am rude on the dance floor. Yes, I am not perfect. SURPRISE!)

He had the audacity to grab my hand and take me away from my friends. I said No, I need to talk to my friend, He said No No..come here...just for a minute...Please....(I was put off by the please..but I thought...lets see what this is about).

We go to the kitchen and I got curious, is this boy (Yes, I say boy because I am going to bet 50 bucks he is at least 5 years younger than me) going to try and kiss me??

I had all my karate moves thought out as we walked to the kitchen...He was slightly taller than me (that does not say much since everyone is taller than me) and he looked like he was Bruce Lee material...(i.e. thin and boney but might have a lot of strength...) and so I knew that the only area hit him was the (my guess) tiny collection of extremely vulnerable nerves that God has very conveniently placed hanging between his legs.

And I was planning to make it look like an accident, in case he turned out to be a friend's friend's friend's friend.

So he takes me to the kitchen, holds my hand and stares down at my cleavage.
That's it.

(If we were in the 1950s, I could understand the need to stare at cleavage. We are in 2006. Cleavages are everywhere. There is no need to stare like you just saw the Kohinoor Diamond(s) for the first time. The Internet is a wealth of cleavages. And you don't even have to pay!!)

I bring my hand to my chest, in a dramatic pose and say, OH godd...I am so tired.."

He says his name is...I forget.
I give my name...I am sure he forgot.

And then a friend comes to the rescue and he walked away.

Then later, I find myself outside the bathroom and Bruce Lee shows up again. And this time he grabs my hand again and says, there is another bathroom upstairs, lets go.

LETS GO?!?!!?!?!? WHAT THE?!!??! DID HE THINK I WAS WAITING OUTSIDE THE BATHROOM SO THAT HE WOULD SHOW UP AND LIKE A KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR TAKE ME WITH HIM TO ANOTHER BATHROOM???

I told him I was waiting for a friend, and he makes cheesy conversation about how I look like I belong in San Francisco. (I NEVER told him I had plans to move). I asked him if he is from SF, he's not. So, its strange that he decides to tell me I look like I belong to San Francisco. (I take it as a sign from our Lord above) but still, as an ice breaker, it was pathetic.

I ask him why?

And he said, you need to be open minded to be in SF and then he asked, are you open minded?

Now I knew where he was going.

I asked him what do you mean open minded..How open minded you do need to be to belong to SF?

And he asked me how open minded are you.

By this time, I was tired of this stupid game. Not interested.
My friend comes out of the bathroom and we decided to walk away...and he says, hey come here talk to me. I said No, I need to go down. He said, Please for one minute. (Did he think he was going to change my mind about him in a minute...that's confidence rite there)

I dunno why I decided to humor him. I said, Wassup.
He was like, if you ever go to SF, you have to try a few restaurants. He tells me a list of restaurants with good meat and seafood.

I told him I was a vegetarian.

He asked me...O, do you eat fish?

I said, No I am a vegetarian. Complete.

He paused. 'O...So am I."

I said, Nice.

We discussed where we were from and I told him I was leaving that night itself. Then I walked away because well, it was not much of a conversation.

The last straw was when, we were about to leave and he comes up and he was like, you should meet my friend. And I said No. I was leaving.

He is moving to Boston, you should meet him.

Bring him here.

He must be inside somewhere, lets go look for him

No. I am too lazy, you bring him out.

(He grabs my hand to pull me) Come on, lets go.

No. (Now I was getting annoyed, is this how he gets gals?)

We did this a few times, this back and forth, with me saying No, and he saying come on...and then I said

Hey Mister, WHAT PART OF NO DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND YOU ANNOYING LITTLE PRICK? YOU WON'T GET LAID WITH LIKE THIS!!!

That was in my head.

All I said to his face was,

No. I dunno what else to tell you.

And I looked down on the floor..(I hate that, I need to work on looking them in the eye).

He at last walked away.
(Maybe this time, he got the hint)

So, given that with my luck, I only get hit on by retards like that on the dance floor, I think I should be grateful it does not happen often.

Ok..time to pop some pills.