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Tuesday, January 15, 2013

I don't know what happened to Manic Monday. Oh wait...I drank it.

Mondays at Blue Martini are just bad news.

Sorry guys, I am a very irresponsible blogger and decided to go get hammered on a Monday night instead of posting a fabulous blog for all of you. I had a good one all ready to go and be posted, and BAM, it was 2am on Tuesday morning. I don't even know how that happened. 

So, last night was a mess. A good friend of mine wanted to go to Blue Martini for happy hour because her boyfriend was at a bachelor party in Vegas. I readily agreed because I NEVER turn down a good happy hour offer, even though I am significantly cutting back on the drinking and eating out until the end of February when I have to be bikini ready on a cruise to the Bahamas. One last hooray on this fine Monday evening, I thought to myself.

Anyways,  we went out. Favorite band is playing. Favorite bartender tending bar. Fairly crowded with single men. Perfect scene. All was going well in the night when a guy sitting across the bar from me starting smiling and catching my eye. I only noticed because I was already staring at him since he was my type: late 30's, city slicker looking, oozing Scottsdale class. Perfect. (Take your judgement elsewhere, I am unemployed and drinks are pricey). 

So, we were about to order a new round of drinks when the guy shouts to Troy (the favorite bartender) to buy us the next round. Typically, the next move is to go stand by the dude and make polite conversation until you drift away with your free drink. However, because he was super cute, we struck up a conversation about skiing (He just broke his leg skiing and was on crutches). He was CLEARLY very into me. Twice divorced, 4 young kids, typical Blue Martini patron, but buying us drinks for as long as we stood there, so stood we did.

Don't get me wrong, he was a really nice guy and actually we had great chemistry. Shame that he's obviously a piece of shit if he's gone through two wives before the age of 40. So, he and I continue talking and the band comes over to chat with us. As you all know, I previously had a major crush on the guitarist of this band. Its pretty much waned completely because I am too busy being an emotional basket case to have meaningful crushes or relationships. 

So, I'm chatting with Mr. Divorcee (named Matt, which is just a bad omen, I think) and my friend is cuddling up to the guitarist. Soon enough they're off at their own table and MAKING OUT. She clearly knew that I had always had a crush on him...and there they are making out.

I tried not to be salty. I tried not to show I was upset on my face, but I wear my heart on my sleeve and I'm sure I looked like a sourpussed biotch. The best I could do was ignore it and keep chatting with Matt the Divorcee. Turns out, that really paid off for me because when he was paying his $86 tab (our's was $6 and we didn't even pay it....questionable), he paid with a $100 bill, which he had a bunch of in his wallet. Then, he hands me a $100 and says "This is my security deposit that I'm going to take you out for dinner and wine". Ummmmm, thanks?

SERIOUSLY THESE THINGS ONLY HAPPEN TO ME. For fucks sake, this guy just handed me a $100 bill and told me to keep it. COULD THIS NIGHT GET WEIRDER?

So, in the car ride home, my friend was saying "Oh yeah, he told me he thought you had a crush on him but really he eyes were all on me, blah blah blah". Really, girl? You're adding insult to injury. You knew I liked him and then...this? I know I'm being sensitive but do we really need to rub it in? I mean, whatever, its not a big deal. Its not the first or last time a guy I'm attracted to was into one of my friends. Please, I grew up being friends with gorgeous and witty Amy. Every guy chose her over me. Basically use to it.

So, why I'm really salty here is....I lost all this weight and I'm still getting passed over. So, it wasn't that I was fat....then what is it? Too tall? Too loud? Not pretty? Let's just add the events of tonight to the ever growing list of my bizarre weight loss insecurities.

Bottom line: Nothing good comes of getting drunk on Monday nights. I need a job. Gah.


  1. Nothing good comes of getting drunk on Monday nights..except that you're $100 richer and he didn't even think you were a prostitute. Sounds like a win to me :)

  2. Getting drunk on a Monday night is awesome. I found your blog when googling "Match.com Stir event reviews" - I write my own dating/single life blog.

    One drunk to another, you crack me up!! As for your last paragraph, I pretty much ask myself constantly this question (I lost 80lbs) and I decided that I'm too good for most men. :)