Forecast....Chilly~

There is no rain in my pants. I only clarify this to ward off all men that are pondering this question. You wouldn't think that I would need to make this proclamation, but based on the experiences I had tonight, you would be wrong.

I don't typically make fun of men that attempt to pick me up. For two reasons. One, I like to be picked up. Any woman that tells you she doesn't is almost certainly lying. It is good for our egos and our genetics from hundreds of years ago appreciate being selected. I don't like to chase, I don't like to make the first move...I like to start as I mean to go on. So I enjoy the pick up line - even if you aren't someone I would necessarily choose I still appreciate the pick up attempt. Two, I give points for taking your balls in hand and making the move. Especially when I am sitting with a girlfriend or three. If you have the cajones to come up to our table and run a line by me, even if it is awful, then you get bonus points that usually lead to at least some kind of interaction. However....

There are exceptions to every rule and tonight was one of them. I have to make fun of him, I simply cannot help myself. More so because he was attractive and really shouldn't have had to resort to such slimy, juvenile lines. The story begins at a local pub on a fairly busy bar street that all Bay Cityans know and love/hate/tolerate. My wing lady is walking the bar under the pretense of using the bathroom at the back and I am holding court at our table, trying to decide if it is worth staying out and feeling yucky or if I should simply go home and get a good night's sleep. I am approached by a fairly attractive man- not gorgeous, but someone my wing lady and I had appreciated when we walked in. He told me that I was beautiful (good start, I am listening) and asked me to dance. So we make our way to the dance floor (where we are the only people in the bar dancing - everyone else is just watching to see what we are going to do) and begin dancing somewhat like idiots, but it is still fun and since I hit thirty I find that I care less and less about behaving normal in public. Pick Up Guy is fairly adept at twirling me, which gives him points since I am a fan of twirling. He tells me several times how beautiful I am.....more points. And then he crashes and burns....wait for it....he pulls me close and whispers this question - "Is it raining in your pants? Can I check?" Are. You. Serious.

So of course I tell him there is zero chance of rain in the region of my pants and as he twirls me out I walk away and leave him on the dance floor. I sincerely hope that he was sober enough to remember that tomorrow - and the smirks of all the people watching. It will do his ego good. He is the reason that we single ladies roll our eyes at men in general. Yes, I know that there are good men out there. BUT...we see waaaaaaaay more of the Pick Up Guy than we do the good guys. I couldn't make this stuff up.

You aren't convinced? My one story didn't sway you? My wing lady (let's call her Stella) and I went out a few weeks ago and she had a man ask her to go outside with him while he smoked. She is way nicer than me and obliged him. While outside he looked at her (I must insert here that Stella is way, way out of his league) and informed her that he was tired of women using him for sex and that when they made love it would be with strawberries and whip cream because he wanted to do it the right way. May I point out that this man was over thirty? Way too old to believe the 'right way' involves fruit and dairy products? And that he had just met her an hour before but was telling her how they were going to get it on? And if that doesn't convince you, I have a friend on Facebook that just posted about how a man she just met sent her a picture on her phone.....of. his. penis. To see if she was interested since she was single. Because naturally all of us single ladies are just waiting by our phones hoping to see a penis.

This is by no means a condemnation of all men...simply evidence that supports our whining from time to time about the ridiculousness of being single amidst a slew of morons.

***If you have not ever asked a woman you just met about the precipitation in her pants, never told a woman you just met you were going to make love to her with fruit that would stain her sheets forever, or never sent any women pictures of your penis - you are exempt from this rant.