Like leaving their phone at the one-night-stand they never wanted to see again.

The City Employee With The Weird Grin came into the bar a few days ago. He is not a bad guy, or at least I don't know enough about him to say much one way or another. His default facial expression is a weird grin, but that doesn't always indicate a child molester. As far as him being a child molester: I don't know enough about him to say much one way or another.

The problem when he comes in is that he is always talking politics. Always. He uses a standard template: people who agree with him are the Good Guys, and people he doesn't like are the Bad Guys. And Stupid: they are Stupid Bad Guys. Who are also Evil. That is, if one were to actually believe in the Concept of Evil, which is really just a laughable relic of superstitious religious folk who are afraid of Science. And those superstitious religious folk are obviously Bad and Stupid. And don't believe in Science: it is all connected.

A lot of people can be like this, but they can generally mix it up with talk about, say, sports. Where our team is the Good Guys, and the other teams are the Bad Guys. Similar, but with sports it doesn't seem so passive-aggressive.

So he goes on and on about the latest outrage. And it is Seattle: the majority of the bar is comprised of people who agree with him. But even these people don't engage. Because he is boring. He is unbuttered toast. He doesn't listen to what another person is saying -- he is just impatiently waiting to say his next thing. And what he said yesterday is what he will say today, which will be what he says tomorrow.

Things people in the bar don't mind hearing over and over? That funny story about the guy who gets hit in the nuts with the golf club. You know, that one on YouTube. Or talking about which chick is hotter. Or breaking the balls of the stupid shit people in the bar have done when they were drunk. Like leaving their phone at the one-night-stand they never wanted to see again. Or accidentally dating a transsexual. Who now has your phone. Shit like that.



-james james

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

For some reason I also picked up several two-packs of hard-boiled eggs from the refrigerated section.

I am hazy about how it started; alcohol was probably involved. I would walk past a group of heroin kids outside what was, at the time, the Big 5 Sporting Goods store. They typically had a cardboard sign on the sidewalk, asking for money. Sometimes the writing on the cardboard attempted to be clever, or funny, or appeal to emotion, with the occasional decorative squiggly lines or smiley face; sometimes it just simply asked. I was at the Bartell's Drugs on the corner, picking up a few items, of which I cannot remember. For some reason I also picked up several two-packs of hard-boiled eggs from the refrigerated section. Outside the store, as I approached the heroin kids, I took the eggs out of the bag, and then gave the packages to them. They were a bit baffled, but appreciative. Maybe a bit disappointed it wasn't just cash. I wasn't going to give them money which then would inevitably be used for drugs; I figured the eggs weren't worth selling for them, and h
Read more

They often tell the women and the college girls they have coke: they don't need to find someone that has it: they already do. And it is back at their place.

David Foster Wallace had a collection of short stories entitled "Brief Interviews with Hideous Men"; at times, this seems like a perfectly reasonable title for conversations that happen with some people at the bar. Maybe not truly hideous; I could check a thesaurus for a synonym that seems somewhat lighter, but it is just easier to say I could check a thesaurus for a synonym that seems somewhat lighter, and you'll know what I mean. I have mentioned the broken men before, and those that instill distaste.They are usually obvious as losers: poor posture, poor bodies, questionable hygiene, enervated, isolated. The broken men who inspire fear -- sometimes it is just a vibe that says prison, or possible serial killer. The kind of guy most women instinctively know to never get in a car with. But there are also the broken losers who look like winners. They show up in a fashionable suit and tie; they wear an expensive watch, expensive shoes. Maybe mid-twenties; maybe earl
Read more

The guys who were trying to f**k her didn't even buy her a drink: there really are useless people in this world.

I ran off to do some errands -- sometimes there is life that needs to be conducted outside of the bar -- and when I returned the girl with the tattoos and the streaked hair from a bottle who just quit her job was still there. She can hold her alcohol, but she now has had more alcohol than she could reasonably hold. The unseemly part of bar life is now happening: most of the regulars have left, and a few young men are around her, commiserating. That is, they are commiserating with her in the hopes that being the commiserating guy will get her to drunkenly go home with them and fuck. Hyenas. I usually keep a distance to people's dramas: you can't make everyone make a good decision. But I cannot let this happen. I slide between her and one of the guys and disrupt the path of the conversation. I ask her gently if it is time to go home. The guys are now upset with me. Upset, and drunk. They make comments, I make comments back. Eventually one guy infers that we should ta
Read more