This Is The Single Life – (Would love to see a JBerr guest blog under Tibbsy’s spot from a female POV about the following)
As a recovering serial monogamist, going on 2 years now, I have enjoyed, like most people, a fruitful experience known as the single 20s life. It’s a culture of its own with its very own fads and lingo. I have been blessed with the luck to have several distinct groups of friends that are experiencing the same life situations as myself and I must say, its enjoyable to say the least. Here are just a couple things I have come to enjoy while only “observing” on the scene, because we all know I do not partake in any vice except for Jesus gluttony. I can’t get enough of JC. Everyone has a vice.
It seems every group I hang out with has a certain make up. There is always one kid that if you didn’t know him and saw him at a party you would say, “look at that tool.” This kid is usually the one with the gimmick. Whether it is a T-Shirt that says “Breathalyzer” with an arrow pointing to his crotch or he’s wearing sun-glasses inside or he will conveniently take his guitar out and start playing a John Mayer or Dave Matthews song. These kids deserve a beat down just on principal but the joke is on the naysayers like yours truly because these are the guys that always attract the skaniest of the skanky. Poor foot hygiene and knowing the chords to ‘Crash’ are the ultimate aphrodisiac apparently because these sandal toting hippies never sleep alone. Evidently I wasted my childhood playing sports and writing, both of which have led me nowhere except mediocrity and to date neither has gotten me laid.
Then there comes your livewires. These are what I like to think as my manic friends because I am going to either have the best or worst time with them. There is no middle ground with these guys. Obviously they cannot handle liquor (no one at CAC would fall under this category) and are almost 99% certain to start a fight at some time in the night but when it comes to the ladies its either sink or swim. I can’t count the number of times I have been apologizing to women for my friends for either inappropriately groping them (if there is ever an appropriate grope) or cursing them out. However, there are some nights my baby-sitting takes a back seat to trying to pick up some of their scraps because these blackout kings are the ones that will be making out with someone on the dance floor at 1 am. (But it seems that women of loose ethics never travel in packs to bars/parties. There is always one fun girl that has an up tight friend, which is to say she has self respect, but c’mon who wants a girl like that!?! You want me to call you, take you out, buy you drinks and THEN you’ll make out with me? Just have your friend call me because I know my friend aint calling her after tonight)
Then you got your hunnie-hunters. These guys are the Green Berets of getting ass. They go out with one mission and one mission only: Take the enemy home and then PULL OUT when mission is released, I mean complete… The clothes are designer, the cologne didn’t come with a gym bag, and the hair is in some rendition of the blow out which is still responsible for 73% of the holes in our O-Zone with all the chemicals these guys use. If you are hanging out with one you can’t do or say anything that will not result in getting laid because this is counter productive. If Al-Queda called in a legit bomb threat to the bar/party, if there are still ‘decent’ chicks at a party you can’t leave until you get one to leave with you. (Shows my game, I’d probably try to pick one up by saying, “you know with bomb threats you should fall out of the house in the buddy system”). The truth is though, you cannot argue with stats. These guys get it done. Doesn’t matter if you have to cast the net over every girl at the bar/party, someone is going home with them. That’s Army Strong.
And then the final group is your lovable losers. These guys don’t know how to talk to women, or even have friendly conversation with another guy in the same vicinity for that matter. It takes at least 2 gallons of courage for them to even think about talking to a woman. They are fine within their circle, but as soon as someone unknown enters the circle, the brain stops functioning, especially at the most basic levels, such as speech, common sense, and non-awkward behavior. These are the guys you love because anything you do that is stupid you know they will top that no problem by the end of the night. If there is going to be someone that makes the hot chick standing right next to you feel awkward and RUN AWAY, rest assure it was your man trying to tell her that he thinks that she is “really really really really (takes a break to creepily pant) really pretty.” We all got ëem in our group and they provide some of the best stories so people best appreciate them…well at least I hope my friends appreciate me. What? She was really pretty I just wanted her to know that?!?
Two sweetest words in the English dictionary – “Free Lunch.” You can tell the Free Lunch by the name her Tribe gives her, usually its something like “Thong High, Pants Low” or “Slutting Bull.” This is the chick with the bullz-eye on her the moment she first stumbles and her scantily clad top can barely retain her puffed up buoys. Then she proceeds to grind with anything with a pulse. A man’s dream come true.
A “Steal” is an offensive rather than a defensive in the world of bone burying. If you see a chick talking to another guy and you want to clue the girl in that you are ten times of a better choice, you walk right over and plant yourself right next to her. After a little game is spit, the chick is submitting to your full court press.
IMPORTANT NOTE. This is not a ‘cock-block.’ We’ve all been cock-blocked. You are sitting there talking to a girl or dancing, about to suck face. Basically, things are going great. You are thinking of the excuses you are going to give her for not staying over after the deed is done. Then her less attractive friend or gay guy friend comes over and drags her away. WHAM, your soldier just ran into a metal pan held snuggly against your crotch..
A ‘steal’ varies on the person and by how much they have had to drink. For instance, the Hunnie Hunters always think any chick is an easy steal because the hunnie hunters think, check that, know they are better than everyone else, while you’re Livewires will down a handle of Vodka and all of a sudden think they can easily ‘steal’ Posh from David Beckham.
The “Close.” Just like in baseball, if you are leading for the first 8 innings but not in the 9th, you still lose the game. Too many times I’ve seen my comrades start strong out the gates only to have a line like “…Yeah I hate condoms” or “…are you on the pill?” or “…you definetely dont look like a virgin” slip out and they end up blowing the save. To Close, you must have the Papelbon like determination from your first pitch till that last beer renders her will to a splendid low.
I’m sorry but I take an evil pleasure in when I see my domesticated friends get dragged home early by their better half. I salute all Frank the Tanks of the world, because the more you repress your party instincts the greater the eventual blow out will be. Not everyone goes streaking, but when someone breaks up with a long-termer you want to hang out with that guy because that month there will be nothing but booze and philandering. Right up my alley.
I love seeing drunk couple fights. I must admit, I was there and like a man who has done time, “I aint goin back!” An age old riddle that will never be answered. Why do young drunk couples fight? I would love a Zen Master to school me on that one.
Lastly, I love the stuff that no one talks about yet everyone knows. For example, you and your friends are standing there and you see one of your friend’s eyes start to drift. You know a chick just entered the room and now everyone begins to plan their assault. What line would work? How should I approach her? Does she look smart enough to know she’s too good for me? I never ask these questions. I just usually pray she has a unibrow fetish and is agile (or slender) enough to climb out a 4 by 2 ft basement window because I’m running out of excuses to tell mom why there is there is grease on the window sill and all the food from the fridge is missing.