Is This What's Left?

I have not blogged in a while not only due to my crazy work schedule the last few weeks but also the lack of dates I’ve been asked out on and also lack of wanting to accept. I’ve blogged many a time regarding the “quality” of men located in the city of Los Angeles and last night just seem to solidify the fact that guys here suck.

My roommate and I decided to keep it a low pro night, and bar hop in our area. We started with dinner at the local sushi joint (always a good idea) and make our way to the dive bar down the street. Now, I’ve only been to this place once before long long ago when I was dating someone that lived in this area, way before I decided to settle here. It was a good time then, typical dive bar with great pricing but nothing really special to look at except for the awesome antlers hanging from the ceiling. You know it’s the type of place that you’ll almost always have a celeb sighting cause it’s so low pro, apparently Jennifer Love(less)Hewitt was there the week before. What could it hurt?

We enter the bar around 8:00pm, thinking by this time it would already be packed. It was the opposite you could hear crickets throughout the joint, although it took the waitress 15 minutes to come over to our table which we found right away. After scanning the room and finding nothing, we decide that it’s probably just early (I say decide which really means, hoping) and start having our usual good time anyway. My roommate and I have this ability to have fun and be happy without men; it’s a skill most women don’t have. After about an hour my roommate leaves me for the restroom and I decide to check my facebook, always a good play when sitting by yourself at a bar. I hear this guy next me say something he I’m sure thought was witty about my FB which forced me to look up. He starts rambling on about just moving here and living in Big Bear (if you don’t live here, you don’t know that Big Bear is far and where LA people go to snowboard in the “winter”) and starts telling me (not asking) that we are in fact in an area called North Hollywood. Okay, if you just moved here I understand that LA is a very large city which has a layout that really doesn’t make sense. We have a downtown area that up until a few years ago sucked, and so many little areas of the city named weird different things, with a place called the valley, and Santa Monica not being part of the city event though it is etc... I get it, I understand that it’s confusing and not like other cities, but if you just moved here and don’t know the lay of the land, you can’t be so egotistical (or stupid) to argue with a lady that just stated she grew up here, where the different area’s are when she corrects you. He then started to go on about the area we were in was not considered part of the city (even though the address is Los Angeles) because it doesn’t have sky scrapers. So I kind rudely ask (because in my old age I have no patience for lame men) if he considered Lincoln Park as part of Chicago, which he answers with a “yes”. So I tell him that I’ve been to Chicago and don’t remember seeing any sky scrapers in that area (I could be wrong but I took a shot), so it should not be considered part of the city based on his theory. He of course had nothing to say to that (he agreed that it didn’t have sky scrapers either so I was right?). His friend then came over, and by this point my roomy was back from the bathroom. His friend was very nice and actually somewhat interesting to talk to. So that was ok.

I then go to the bar for water (because our waitress visits were few and far between) and begin talking to the two guys sitting at the bar in suits (suits are typically a good sign) I noticed with the first word that they are British (I’m a sucker for accents and suits) one of them was cute, the other was whatever. So the whatever one starts talking to me about something (drunk babble maybe?) and I hear the word “rape” in there. So I say to the cute friend “Did he just say he raped someone? Does he know what that means in America?” cute friend says to me while kind of laughing that yes they do indeed know what rape means in this country. Okay, I decide that their “brit” humor was lost on me with this one. I normally find British men quiet amusing and am into their dry humor. So I go back to the table and the Chicagoians have left. The Brits follow me (still saying something about rape) and begin speaking to roomy. She asks them something about what they did today and they say again “rape” something. But at this point there were a few more people in the bar and I had consumed a few more drinks so the conversation is fuzzy. I keep asking them if rape means the same here than in England, again trying to give them the benefit of the doubt (because they are wearing suits) and again they tell me they know exactly what it means and they think it’s funny. So with that, I’m kinda over the conversation. I try not to be such a bitch to people, but there are things that I just don’t find funny. Rape is one of those things, especially when it’s a man thinking the word is funny. I find it somewhat disgusting. So in my drunken stupor, I begin yelling “redcoats” at them (which I stole from my roomy, It’s really funny when she says it) and ask them what it was like to lose the war. I know, it was a long shot, who ever talks about and throws the war of independence into a brits face, but that was all I had at that moment and I work with what I got. So they decide to leave and that was the end of it. A few other kids (yes kids they were 21) came over to talk to us, but with that we decided it was time for us to head out and put this Saturday night to bed.