- The creepy dude in the bad hat who stalked by my seat no less than five times before sliding on over, slinging his jacket over his shoulder (no joke), flashing me a smile (complete with horrendous teeth), and asked me what a pretty girl like me was doing all by myself. The only thing this approach was missing was a finger gun-wink combination. Step up your game!
- The switcheroo. Moderately attractive gentleman walks in, surveys the joint, beelines to me (red wine in hand. Seriously, people, unless you're at a wine bar, don't order the wine. You're only going to look pretentious, and as an added bonus, you'll be seriously disappointed in your drink), and strikes up a conversation. Two minutes in, he mentions his friend invited him. Not 30 seconds later, said friend, who is much less attractive and significantly more socially awkward, "happens" to walk by. Moderately attractive dude makes the introduction (and when I stand up to meet his poor friend, I realize he's shorter than me. ME. This is almost statistically impossible), then bails, leaving me to make awkward conversation with his awkward friend.
However! Not one to take unsolicited advice lightly, I wandered to the bar upstairs. Hm. Slim pickins. Okay, so I'll go get a drink. The awkward dude at the end of the bar offers to let me in over by him, and of course starts jabbering like a monkey on speed. Seriously, this guy had so much to say about himself (and living with his grandmother. And his lack of a full time job. And his lack of a car. And his tendency to hang out with people decades younger than him) that he hijacked his own questions.
"So, where are you from?"
"Well, I'm from Southern California--"
"Oh my goodness! I went to Venice Beach once!" (He then proceeds to tell me ALL about why he was in Venice Beach, and how he liked it there, but he would never move there).
"So, what do you do for fun?"
"Oh, I like to run--"
"Oh my goodness! I work for 24 Hour Fitness!" (He then proceeds to tell me how he got the job, how long he's been working there, etc. etc.).
After a good 20 minutes of this, I downed my glass and excused myself, more than ready to leave. Just as I grab my purse, I get stopped by the gentleman that had arrived just ahead of me earlier in the evening. "Can I walk you out? I'm about to leave as well." Finally, a normal human being! Of course, as soon as we step outside, he says, no less than three times, "You're cute. You're real cute. No, you're HOT." I'm beginning to think he's drunk. Thankfully, just as he's telling me about all the connections he's made tonight, but we should totally, totally get together, my ride pulls up (because you can't walk home in Oakland in heels!). I hop in, give a wave, and vow to myself that I will never, ever do another singles' mixer again (until they have another one in my neighborhood for free).