On December 4th, I had the wonderful pleasure of seeing my most favorite love, Tara, graduate from Nursing school. I rode with Amanda and her BF Jason, and it was a pleasant time. We didn't stay for long, but I saw her graduate, maybe I held back a few tears as I saw her waddle her 8 month pregnant belly up to the stage to recieve her pin, that her grandpa helped pin to her jacket, and we left. Now this particular Sunday was a Sunday that I worked, and so I had that next Monday off. I decided I wasn't ready to head for home yet, and I was feeling like I was lookin' Migh*T*Fine, so I had decided that if my most favorite bar Z's wasn't busy I'd stop in for a beer and some buffalo rolls.
I drove around the joint first to scope out the scene and it did look pretty dead, so I parked my car and headed in. Now the rectangle bar is situated right in middle of the room, there are boothes right when you walk in off the the left and off to the right side of the bar are all tables. When you walk in you look at one of the short ends of the rectangle, and so I decided to situation myself at one of the bar stools at that end of the bar. I knew the bar tender working, so I felt safe leaving my jacket and purse at the bar while I went to the bathroom. I gave my drink order to Nita, and walked around the side of the bar were the boothes are. Now, I'm a pretty observant person I think, so I did notice the gentleman setting in the first booth; I noticed that he was an Indian man, and I noticed that he was giving me the eye.
Over the years I've begun to realize what the eye means. When I first got the eye, I thought maybe this person thought I was incredibly ugly.... ya know like so ugly you couldn't turn your eyes away from them, you had to stare at them just because they were so ugly (Yes, I have great self esteem!!) Then I thought that maybe I had something on my face, or even *gasp* in my nose! ( I think that is the most embarrassing thing ever is when you have a big ole boogy in your nose for the world to see.) Back then, I didn't know when someone was hitting on me or if they really were. I was that oblivious to it. Over time though, I learned what the eye ment, and this Indian man was definitely giving me the eye.
When I returned from the bathroom this man had moved his seat from the booth to the bar about 5 seats down from me. "Awesome" is what I thought. Now, I'm not opposed to dating outside my race, but a person from that part of the world has a completely different belief system then I do. Not even religion either, but how they treat their women. It's not bad, but they expect the women to be very submissive, which I don't mind out to a certain degree. I feel in order for me to submit to a man they need to earn it out of respect.
Anyway, so this man starts talking to me (Of course I saw it coming a mile away) and I make small talk, but pretend that I'm more interested in the football game then anything.... As the night progresses he goes out for a smoke and I send this text to my friend Amanda, "Since I left you, my night has taken a terrible turn. I have found myself at Z's being hit on by an Indian man."
When the man came back from his cigarette break, he sat even closer to me. He even started putting his hand on my back on rubbing my arm... *Roll the eyes* Just because I'm talking to you doesn't give you permission to start touching me. After a while my friend Lauren comes to my rescue....Kinda. As much as I'm trying to talk to Lauren this man keeps interrupting and then after I've almost completed my second beer, and I'm contemplating ordering a third this man goes, "How many of those have you had tonight?" I looked at him and said, "This is my second....why?" "Well, becuase those are not very good for you." My thought process was...I'm going to punch him.....Yep, he can fuck off....mixed with a couple other thoughts that seem cloudy to me now. I said, "Excuse me, but they aren't any worse than that cigarette you went out to smoke." How fucking rude, You don't know me why are you lecturing me about my alcohol consumption. Then he proceeded to want to talk about how much I made at my job. None of your damn business is what I responded with.
Needless to say I was thrilled when this man left, and I was left to indulge in my unhealthy habits.... Go back to China bitch is what I really wanted to say.
No comments:
Post a Comment