Guys, you have a lot of explaining to do.
Ok … that’s not totally fair, I’ll give you that; but for the record, pick up methods have hit an all-time low. Now, I’m not referring to myself as the attempted pick-up; I apparently give off the “walk away from me” vibe. My friends do, too; even if they won’t admit it. But if you catch one of my girlfriends when she’s not in the right state of mind … well, she may be more open to participate in your conversation.
And last night on our girl’s night (plus Jeff and Daniel), in the midst of strobe lights, fog machines, and Whisky River’s Bartender Competition hosted by F’Ncrazynight.com … things got a little out of control. Well, for one of us anyway. As it happens, the 6:30 a.m. wake up call labels me as the designated driver. Which is fine by me, I’m pretty protective of my friends and staying the sober one means I get to keep a watchful eye on them all.
That is until I lose one of them … Hey, it happens.
Nick Swardson said it already, as females we just tend to lose each other when alcohol is involved. It is as detrimental as it is inevitable. And last night when one group of my girlfriends were called into the VIP area by some unknown gentlemen I tagged along. From the upper level I peered down like a hawk watching our other friends still fighting off the 18 year old procession surrounding them. Ah, College Night – I don’t think I loved you even when I was you.
I can see my other friends clearly, but one … we’ll call her Ole Miss, started weaving her way through the crowd in a direction I couldn’t quite see. In the swarm of people, I lost sight of her bright turquoise dress. By the way, bright colors on Ole Miss are the equivalent of a runner wearing a neon vest at night; subconscious move on her part? I’m going to go with … yes.
In panic mode I gathered my Very Important Friends and made moves to follow. Ole Miss called repeatedly, but when you’re in the warzone of teenage mating i.e. grinding to techno music, it’s rather difficult to communicate. Eventually, though, we did manage to gather up all our friends sans Ole Miss. We texted her “meet us at the Bull” … something I never thought I’d say to someone.
Only she couldn’t find it, so we texted her “meet us at the bar,” positive that she would know that location well, even intoxicated. However, at this point Ole Miss had given up on texting all together. Phone calls only, despite our tricky environment. When finally contact had been made, we learned Ole Miss had made her way outside the bar. Thank God. The others still had tabs they needed to close at the bar I headed out to find our lost friend solo.
Outside in a sea of smoke I felt my phone vibrating, it was Ole Miss …
“baby, I’m on my way to you”
“hello?” … guy’s voice
My heart sank. Now I’m frantically maneuvering my way through this crowd of smokers looking everywhere for that turquoise dress. And then as if Moses himself parted the sea of smoke, everything cleared and there she was … with two cops.
Once I get up to her I realize there is a third party to these investigating guys. This guy donning flip-flops, gym shorts, and a really tight t-shirt is holding my girlfriend’s arm. I start asking both cops what’s going on, and they ignore me. Standard. Worse yet, while I’m trying to pull any information out of them, this Jersey Shore cat is now holding the hand of my friend and leading her away. Thank you, Law Enforcement. You guys rock, really.
I chase after this pair and take her other hand. I thank him for helping her and inform him she’s fine with me.
Jersey Shore- “She needs to get down the stairs.”
Jordan- “We’re waiting on our friends, and then I’m taking her home”
Jersey Shore- “She needs to come with me; I’m going to help her down the stairs”
Jordan- “I can take it from here”
But this Guido wouldn’t let up if his life depended upon it. Of course, Ole Miss wasn’t helping the matter as she was now leaning on this guy for support while simultaneously calling out “all the cops here love me!”
Something tells me you’re wrong about that, Ole Miss. Just a hunch …
And yes, this guy follows us all the way down the stairs making inappropriate comments to me regarding the intoxication level of my friend, only to then make underhanded ones to himself about my stand-offish behavior. I believe the term he used was “prudish,” I’ve been called worse.
On the ground level I finally see our friends walking down the stairs, or well I see my best friend trip down the stairs (right now she’s more than likely cursing me from her bed, where she has also just popped approximately five ibuprofen). When they reach us I kindly inform Jersey Shore that we’re all here now, he’s free to go. Only he doesn’t budge. In fact, now he’s pulling up the sleeves of his tiny t-shirt so we can see his large tattooed arms. Like I have time for this guy and his antics.
Jersey Shore- “I’ll walk you to your car”
Jordan- “No, no … no need for that we are fine.”
Jersey Shore keeps walking.
Best Friend- “Who is this guy?”
Ole Miss- “Where are the cops? All the cops love me! Are you a cop?”
Jersey Shore- “I am”
Is this guy for real?
Jordan- “You’re not a cop”
Jersey Shore- “Yes I am. I’m undercover.”
Jordan- “Oh yeah, gym shorts and flip flops … you’re an undercover cop. Yeah, me too”
Best Friend- “You’re douche enough to be a cop” Reason 2483938498483829939238 why she’s my best.
But he’s still coming. Only add the sob story of how he found Ole Miss and rescued her from his “co-workers.” Do cops call each other co-workers? You learn something new every day.
Too bad my drunken friend is totally buying this “white horse” bullshit. Does this sort of thing usually work for you, Jersey? Desperately trying, but to no avail, we can’t shake this shady character.
Well, to be fair …
Best Friend: “Hey Marine Corp, got a lighter?”
Jordan- “Not helping”
Meanwhile, Ole Miss is swaying back and forth proclaiming that if this guy hadn’t come along she’d be in jail, only to quickly correct herself since “all the cops love” her. Since the rest of us saw this situation as it was, we got Ole Miss into the car before her white knight could request any further contact.
This entire episode left me wondering, what is wrong with you guys? Is this sort of behavior commendable in male circles? You pick out the drunkest girl in a group and try to pull her away from her friends, making you the creepiest guy on earth. Is creeping the new flirting?
Then I thought of my own guy friends, who seriously rule. You guys are amazing. I don’t have one guy friend who would ever behave this way, so to them I say spread the word. Educate these creepsters on how to interact with a member of the opposite sex. Now I understand why my parents are so anxious when it comes to me. If this sleazy behavior is the future, well consider me the future cat lady.