The Going Gets Tough
I'd forgotten what a nightmare dating is. That's not to say that I was out on a date last night, as I wasn't. MeShelle's movin' up north to a suburb of Metropolis, so I did what any affectionate male friend would do: I accompanied her and some of her other friends to a night of karaoke... Painful, painful karaoke. She had this friend there, Lisa. Lisa looked pretty good in the low light, but I'm recently single, and I tried to ignore her as much as possible without being rude. Of course, she went for it like bass to stink bait, and I flirted back a bit. It's par for the course when someone's stupid enough to sing "Better Man" by Pearl Jam at karaoke night. Honestly.
Somehow she conned me into not only sticking around longer at the watering hole than I had intended, but in going to this house that appeared to be some sort of Mecca for people currently or formerly associated with the campus radio station. She was intermittently flirty, but every time I tried to inform her that I was going to leave if she didn't start paying attention to me, she'd pay attention to me... For about ten seconds, then turn her back on me.
Once it was time to go to the last bar (a five minute walk away, compared to a thirty second walk to my car), both she and MeShelle had pretty much exceeded their designed alcohol solubility. For those of you who are morons, that means they were drunk. Now, in spite of having purchased a six pack of Guinness at around 19:20, I'd consumed no alcohol that evening, and I was tired of putting up with a flirty drunk girl who was playing hard to get. I hugged MeShelle, and I opted for the thirty second walk.
What a joke. I'm pretty much out of luck, too, because I have about three and a half months of college left. That means that I don't have enough time in my current surroundings to meet and date freshmen, sophomores, juniors, or most seniors, because I'll be gone in three months and it'll all be moo.
You know, moo? It's like a cow's opinion. It just doesn't matter. It's moo.
Anyway, I'm in a pretty lousy mood. I may head to campus and try to get some work done and then go on a yomp. Or I may sit here all day and wish that I were a smarter man. And read Plutarch, maybe. Ehhhh... It's all bollocks, as usual.
Somehow she conned me into not only sticking around longer at the watering hole than I had intended, but in going to this house that appeared to be some sort of Mecca for people currently or formerly associated with the campus radio station. She was intermittently flirty, but every time I tried to inform her that I was going to leave if she didn't start paying attention to me, she'd pay attention to me... For about ten seconds, then turn her back on me.
Once it was time to go to the last bar (a five minute walk away, compared to a thirty second walk to my car), both she and MeShelle had pretty much exceeded their designed alcohol solubility. For those of you who are morons, that means they were drunk. Now, in spite of having purchased a six pack of Guinness at around 19:20, I'd consumed no alcohol that evening, and I was tired of putting up with a flirty drunk girl who was playing hard to get. I hugged MeShelle, and I opted for the thirty second walk.
What a joke. I'm pretty much out of luck, too, because I have about three and a half months of college left. That means that I don't have enough time in my current surroundings to meet and date freshmen, sophomores, juniors, or most seniors, because I'll be gone in three months and it'll all be moo.
You know, moo? It's like a cow's opinion. It just doesn't matter. It's moo.
Anyway, I'm in a pretty lousy mood. I may head to campus and try to get some work done and then go on a yomp. Or I may sit here all day and wish that I were a smarter man. And read Plutarch, maybe. Ehhhh... It's all bollocks, as usual.
2 Comments:
whats yomp?
As in "go for a yomp"?
Sorry you didn't have a better night.
God Bless!
A yomp is a hike in boots with a pack. The Army would call it a march, the U.S. Marines would call it a hump, the Brits call it a yomp.
The French are not expeditionary in nature, so my guess is that they have no word for it.
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