The Men

You want to know why women pounce on men and talk about marriage and babies after a third date? Because finding a respectable man is like finding out your not pregnant, complete relief and utter joy. (For you man readers-it's like finding out your not the baby daddy, complete relief and utter joy.) The following are examples of why women perceive men to be inconsiderate assholes in general. (Yes, I know there are good guys out there but you have to admit, there are a lot of classless jerks lurking all over the place, ready to destroy women's confidence and brag to their male friends about how "she wasn't that hot anyway"). And these are not based on bitter dating experiences. These are men just running around pissing me off.
1. Last night a party of three sits at the bar top. There is a couple with a perceived single man (this becomes apparent why he would be single later). They are all around their late 40's to early 50's. I get their first round of drinks out and hand them a menu. When they request an appetizer I put it in for them. The couple is familiar, I know I have seen them before and they seem nice. The single man loudly announces he will handle the bill tonight, so make sure to give it to him. Sign one that he is a tool. Wow, you're going to buy a dinner? How amazing of you, your mom must be proud. The night progresses, they order salads, dinner, and have a continuous flow of drinks being brought to them. Single man feels the need to order his male friend's beer for him every time I bring him a drink as well. This is starting to annoy me because the friend is only half way through his beer and I can tell single man is under the assumption that I am a bad bartender. At the end of the night, single man decides he needs one more drink for the road (oh yes older women love DUI's). So he shakes his glass at me and says "I'll have another one (exaggerated pause to make sure I know,) crown and water." Oh really? No shit asshole, this is your sixth drink and they have all been the same, thanks for the update. After issuing him the check, he puts cash down on the counter and I hear the couple ask, "Are you sure you got this?" He chuckles like he is some fucking Bill Gates millionaire and says, "Oh yeah."
The dick left me $120 to pay his $113.80 tab. Impressive, maybe now you can go take your Match.com date to dinner and ask her to pay the bill because that would make you look like less of a loser than leaving a bartender less than 10% of a tip.
2. As I am driving to pick my dad up to take him out for his birthday lunch today, I pass through a shopping strip. I am going 8-10 mph but being cautious to look for walkers. I hate when cars don't stop to let people pass. You are sitting on your ass, would you mind waiting two seconds while I cross the street. So on the left is Big Lots, on the right the parking lot. This man comes bolting out of the store with a cart. Literally he is running with an empty cart to the parking lot. i have two choices, slam on my brakes and still be past the point of letting him cross, or keep going. I keep going because I am already too far to let him go since he decided to run towards me. He slows up and yells, "Oh don't let me get in your way. Fucking asshole." No joke the guy said this to me. My window was down and like I said I wasn't going fast. As I slammed on the brake, I again confronted a dilemma. Do I reverse and show him what would happen if he had gotten in my way or do I jump out of the car and ask him if his mother ever taught him not to run in parking lots? I guess being outside of Big Lots, I should expect this but let me tell you something, I know women can be bad drivers and I have cut people off or done stupid driving things before, this man was wrong and he was a tool. Does it make you feel better to yell at a 5'2'' 22 year old? Well I hope so because you looked like a moron.
3. This one is brief. I went to the gym on Monday and as I walked up to the door, an older man was reaching the door about 20 feet before I was. It was an awkward distance, he would have to stand there and wait in order to hold the door, but not long, maybe 5-6 seconds. As he reaches the door, he looks back at me and honestly, barely opens the door and squeezes his beer gut in. I am not kidding. What the hell is the matter with you men? I'm not asking you to carry me to the front door or even say hello, just OPEN THE DOOR. You have two hands that can do more than console you after you've been rejected by another woman (probably because you had no manners).
Final Words: I am going to my first NHL game tonight. I am debating if I should color a tooth out and purchase a WWE wrestle mania shirt to better fit in.

The Groceries

Maria never ceases to amaze me. I just got back from grocery shopping with her. I am a faithful Safeway shopper. Once I find a store, I stick to it. I even hate changing locations because I like to know where everything is. Do you really like having to ask the 15 year old bagger boy who just got an erection when you looked his way where the tampons are? I prefer to just know where to go. When they move shit around to make it more "appealing" for customers I want to scream. You know what appeals to me? Everything staying where it used to be. Do the bananas really need to be up in the front of the store because they're on sale this week? Apparently Dole is seeking to pay its child labor $.50 an hour instead of $.25 so they can keep all the pseudo-liberal "I want to save the children" marijuana freaks happy. Back to Maria.
So we are shopping. I am purchasing, she is pushing the cart commenting on every item I buy. When I shop I look at the Nutrition Guide on every item. I like to know what I am putting in my temple. Every time I mention how many calories or salt or sugar is in an item, Maria talks about Chips Ahoy, Cheetos, or ice cream (brand is unidentifiable because she will eat any of them). Up and down the aisles we go, the further we go the more she is craving cakes, cookies, and ice cream even though I have purchased nothing but healthy, smart options. By the time we get to yogurt, we started on veggies which is on the complete opposite side of the store, I am ready to tear into the bakery like a crack addict showing up at Amy Winehouse's digs. As I debate between Key Lime yogurt and Kiwi Lime, Maria asks, "What is the difference anyway? What's a key?" I nearly died trying not to insult her too much after I rolled around the floor, told 3 other customers in the aisle, and pointed at her with gasping breaths from laughing so hard.
After making it make to my car, we decide to hit Yogurtland. One of those new fancy frozen yogurt items where you pick how much you want, add your own toppings and pay based on how much it weighs. I love this. First, they give you cups that could fit a small child in it, so you feel forced to fill it up more. Then they put out 300 toppings. I love watching people head up to the counter with their coconut-reeses peanut butter cup-strawberry-kiwi-chocolate chip-caramel sauce-vanilla wafers with a dab of yogurt under there somewhere. The weight groans because you now successfully created more calories in one sitting than Kirstie Alley could ever dream of. Congratulations fat ass. Now talk to your slightly chubby friend who got only fruit on hers, about how it doesn't matter because the yogurt is "fat free." Maria is not one to claim any of her food is fat free but she sure makes it hard to eat right. Tonight her toppings included: chocolate chips, brownie bites, vanilla wafers, and gummi bears. Being 5 years old again must be fun. As we head home she begs me to stop by McDonald's. I am not kidding. The bitch wants more. So she gets medium fries and chicken nuggets. Now don't get me wrong this is the same Maria from before and she's not fat. How does she do it? You know Jersey Shore? Girls with the giant hair? Maria's is three times that size. And now I know why.
Final Words: You want to know why the economy is still in an economic crisis? Because the U.S. Census Bureau sends out 5,000 different letters to every living space to make sure you're "counted." What a joke. Do me a favor, save the postage and do something useful, like I don't know, say, saving some of the thousands of public libraries across the nation that are shutting down. But hey kids don't need to read, I am sure there is an app for that.

The DVD

It has come to my attention that Jillian Michaels the devil's trainer. I mean he has to be in pretty good shape to think he can battle God right? Seriously the bitch is crazy. I am in the middle of one of her work out DVD's screaming at her for "encouraging" me when it hits me. I don't actually have to do what she says. In fact I can turn her off I wanted. Oh if only I didn't desire to fit in my skinny jeans without sucking it in all night. It gets annoying when you try to do shots. What? You try holding your abs tight when you're slinging back tequila. Instead, I trudge on like a fat camp kid, going through the work out but dreaming of the extra piece of pie I am going to reward myself with for being so awesome. As I finish do I celebrate and congratulate myself for pushing through it? No. I think about how I will never have washboard abs because BevMo had a one cent wine sale and there is no way I can let that go to waste. But I am proud of the fact that I didn't throw the DVD out.
So why, you ask, am I home on a Friday night writing a blog at 9:18? I am blaming it on the fact that all the non practicing Catholics decided they would participate in Good Friday rituals and not eat meat tonight. Yeah, that's it buddy, you're going to Heaven because you gave up a steak and instead opted for lobster. I don't think I have ever seen the bar that empty before. You know the typical cricket chirps? I could hear the crickets thinking. (Hey! Hey! Look at this cool noise I can make! Hellllloooo, can you hear this?) A lot of our regulars showed up which was cool. Got to love people that insist on being made fun of by me because their lives are that devoid of interesting people. I love those people. I mean, how much more awesome can my job get? People give me money as I insult their slow drinking and comment on their graying hair. And yet they all love me. What I don't like are the people that show up and believe they are regulars, when really I have never seen them before in my life. Scenario:
Me: Hello Sir, what can I get you started to drink with?
Douchebag wanna-be VIP: Oh I'll have what I had last time, a MILLER LITE (emphasis on this as if he was saying, hey idiot, it's what I always get).
Well you know what, I do remember people that come in here. I know what it is like to be ignored (see The Bartender). But just because you wear a sports jacket with a bright colored button up shirt because you're not afraid of your "feminine side" with your ray bans on (by the way it is so dark in the restaurant that you need a flashlight to properly see the menu), does not make you better than your surrounding drinkers. You're in Mesa buddy, this isn't Scottsdale where only plastic parts get attention. Plus, you ordered a Miller Lite, there is nothing special about you or your drink; you mine as well have ordered a dirty water. The best part is when they leave me a $1 tip on $15. Wow, yeah I am really going to remember you the next time you come in - as the shitty tipper who will now never be a VIP. In fact from here on out, I will purposely pretend like I don't recognize you so you can scream Miller Lite at me and feel better about yourself.
Final Words: One of my regulars looked at me today and said, "Oh hey, that girl with the crazy hair actually brushed her hair. It's probably the second time I have seen it brushed...Looks nice." Pretty sure I peed my pants a little.