A Question for the Lovely Manda
Miss Manda, you're my favorite expert on bars and the social dynamics therein. Assuming they have karaoke at your favorite bar, is there ever a creepy guy who looks like he's in his forties, no sense of fashion whatsoever, kind of balding, glasses? You know, the child molester/serial killer lookin' guy, who sits by himself at the bar and watches the festivities, and sings a couple of songs that either A) nobody knows or B) nobody wants to hear sung by a creepy forty year old man, least of all in a bar frequented primarily by college students?
I'm just curious, is that guy a staple at bars, or was he a one time thing?
I'm just curious, is that guy a staple at bars, or was he a one time thing?
4 Comments:
I hate to tell you, but that's a common thing. I'm kind of a in a rush right now, but when I have the time I believe I'll make a good, long post about this mysterious and slighty frightening creature.
Hey, I was at dinner at Olive Garden last night and I don't wear glasses. And I have a witness!
Nah, no worries Poor-Con. I was talking with Julia (who I should really come up with a nickname for, as I do for just about everyone I write about here) and apparently he's at that watering hole a lot. She says her sister has talked to him before, and apparently he's directing some play in College City.
Just what we need: a loner theater guy who looks exceedingly dodgy, hanging out at a watering hole frequented by college kids. He's probably fine, but it still gives me the heebie jeebies.
Manda = currently drunk.
He might have turned out okay but just WAIT till I do my post. It'll be awesome. Unfortunately I started to work on it, but I have a problem with writing anything indepth when I'm hungover and still sore from spending the night in my truck after being kicked out of my house.
Obviously, I'm back... but it doesn't change the fact that I woke up at 9 am, in my truck, supposedly still homeless, hungover, with my hip wedge under the steering wheel and a seat beat thingy lodged in my lower back.
Yeehaw.
Point being, I'll eventually get around to it, as it's not often someone actually gives me something other than my everyday rantings and ravings to talk about.
But I'm drunk and it's almost 2 a.m.
I going to bed. One without a steering wheel.
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