Another Rejection

Last night, I went out and got drunk with a couple of friends. However, I've got a low tolerance for alcohol, so it didn't take as much for me to get toasted, though I wasn't blasted or "fucked up."

What was fucked up was when my friends said there is really little difference between me when I'm sober and when I'm really drunk. I was a bit surprised, maybe a little insulted.

"Well?" they said, "You act the same either way. You actually seem pretty normal right now. For you."

I'll grant that I walk into things. I slur my words a little. I get dizzy. I say idiotic things. I do all of this when I'm drunk, too, but I figured there'd be some sort of visible difference.

Another Rejection
Fast on the heels of last week's excitement of hitting on the engaged woman, I tried my hand at wooing another girl. This time, this girl was prescreened by my friend: really nice, about my age, Asian, not married, not engaged, no children.

I was already drunk when she arrived at the Howl at the Moon in Universal City. My friends, however, swore they couldn't tell. So I bought her a shot--I had to try to even the score. And so we hung out. It was so loud, we could hardly talk. However, I mostly (stupidly) talked about how I was drunk, but how I always insist on using correct grammar. And then we all left after listening to some music, and I bought us some chicken tacos. Great. Chicken fucking tacos. Meanwhile, I'm thinking, "I'll worry about how much I'm spending when I sober up." I spent money like I wasn't a broke government employee.

After the chicken fucking tacos, I sobered a little (which was a downer) and we went to the Rumba Room and we danced. Okay, that was pretty fun. But before dancing, she was really nice and seemed to be really receptive to me. Then after dancing, I could sense that my skills on the dance floor had been so poor, she'd lost all respect.

And here it is. I asked if she wanted to hang out, go out, do something sometime. I'd noticed my approval rating rapidly dropping--DROPPING--but it wasn't to "Governor of California" levels yet, so I didn't want to beat around the bush any more than I had to. Her answer? "Oh, I hang out with these guys (my friend and his fiance, who are both her friends as well) every week."

So there it was. Rather than a 'no,' I got, "I hang out with these guys every week." This meant that if I go out next Friday, I'll be able to see her. Translation: "Go fuck yourself."

Hmmm.

This single thing doesn't seem to be working out too well. I need to find an inventive, unique way to get the lay-deez. And why are all the cool chicks engaged? Fuck!