May 12, 2002
8:48 PM

I just wanted to sit, not hit on you.


It was another weekend of going from one place to another. Off to her town to stay over as usual. I'll decline from going into the equisite sexual details. But damn, she is fun and full of surprises.

In between all that and Mothers' Day leaves Saturday. (And yes, I believe Mothers' Day has the apostrophe at the end like that, because it's a day for more than one mother. Right?) Saturday night I leave to go to another show with both bands. Aside from my brother, they're the only two local bands I go out to see. Both were formed from members of my last band after we broke up. I'm not really bitter of that; I support them in what they do. I think it worked out for the best for all 4 of us. Tonight I was giving C&A's band the "beta" version of the multimedia CD I'm making for them.

And now, get ready for a little unashamed misogyny-laced rant.

So G's band is starting to play. I'm standing in this packed little bar. I see a row of 4 chairs separating a row of tables and a chest-high wall. The one on the end is actually empty. I lean over to where a few women are chatting to themselves. "Excuse me, is somebody sitting here?" "Uh, uh...yeah, somebody is." OK, then. I stand next to the chair, leaning up against the little wall. 10 minutes go by. The band starts. Still, nobody comes by to claim the seat. Another 5 minutes goes by. And another 5 minutes. Fuck this. I sit down, shaking my head. Eventually the other lady's at the table leave. I couldn't remember if it was before or after they sat down.

Some time later I noticed that there was a sweater left on the chair next to me. Presumably it belonged to the lady who told me the seat was taken. Heh heh, she'll have to come back. I start fantisizing about wiping my ass with her sweater before giving it back to her. "Here you go, you fucking liar." But a minute or two later a guy comes up next to me, points to the sweater and politely asks me to give it to him. "Is this the sweater of the lady who was sitting here?" The band's playing loud, as expected. "Yeah, yeah, the sweater. Can you hand it to me?" I do. "You know, the lady who was sitting here is a fucking liar. She said this seat was taken and it wasn't. She fucking lied to me." "Oh, yeah, she's uh...kinda fucked up."

I think back to when a similar thing happened in college. I took a seat next to this lady in a huge lecture hall. I did know her indirectly; she went out with one of my fraternity brothers and lived on the same floor of some other chicks I knew. Why did I pick this seat? Because I always liked to sit up near the front. "Sorry, this seat's taken." OK, then. I sit a few rows behind. And wouldn't you know, that allegedly "taken" seat next to her remained empty for the rest of the class.

Maybe I don't know the whole story in these situations. Maybe they really thought a friend was coming to sit with them and that friend never showed up. Then again, I wouldn't be surprised if they were just throwing me a line in hopes that I wouldn't sit next to them.

Why would I think that? Is it because I think I'm repulsive? Hell no. I see what's going on. Women, especially at places like bars and clubs with rock bands playing, probably get hit on so much that they take ANY form of communication from a guy to mean "I'm trying to get into your pants." On top of that, most of the men who DO end up talking to them are either blunt with no class, or had to drink a bunch of shots at the bar to get their inhibitions down low enough to make an advancement. So the women end up being cold to any guy who smiles at them or talks to them.

I asked this lady about a seat, not if her lap was free. Why? Because I wanted to sit down. I didn't care if the seat was next to two women or two bouncers. Sometimes a guy who asks for a light really just wants a cigarette light. Not every guy asking for the time is trying to hit on you (I used to think "She wouldn't give you the time of day" was only an expression). And sometimes a guy asking you if a seat is free simply wants to sit down to rest, not invade territory. You know who you are -- stop flattering yourselves. Stop bitching that you "can't find a normal guy", whatever the fuck that is. And don't be surprised when, after rejecting hundreds of Mr. Wrongs, you find Mr. Right and he rejects YOU. I just hope I'm there at the other end of the bar witnessing that when it happens, because I'll be laughing my ass off at you.

Ahh...that entry was cathartic.

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