"3 ways to get a table full of drinking guys to hate you"

*This post is not for the easily offended. If you have never heard me rant or cuss before, I wouldn't suggest reading this as it may change your opinion of me...*

 Last night, PeerPressure asked me if I'd like to go to a bar to eat dinner with him and some friends. Since I had gone out to this particular bar with him multiple times, I decided it might be fun. He picked me up and was already in a sour mood. PeerPressure had lost his wallet so he was worried that he wouldn't be able to get into any bars or pay for it once he got in there. It didn't bother me that he was angry, because believe me, when I lose my stuff, I'm absolutely livid. ("Like seriously, I just had my hairbrush in my hand and I haven't even left the room. Where the fuck is it?") But since the night got off to a rough start, I was not in the mood to humor all of his male friends when we arrived. That's when I learned:

Three Ways to Get a Table Full of Drinking Guys to Hate You


1. Dress like a girl who isn't out to get a cock in her mouth
     This was clearly my first offense. I was literally the only female at a table of eight rowdy guys. (at first) And first impressions are the most important. So when I sat down wearing a black t-shirt, jeans, and flats and then took off my over-the-shoulder purse to neatly place it in my lap, they had already decided I wasn't worth any attention.
     If you want drinking guys to like you (and I can't stress this enough) then dress in clothing that covers 30% of your body. The other 70% should be skin, cleavage, and make up. These are men we are dealing with, after all. Not 10-year-olds. The imagination and excitement of "not knowing what could be under there" died along with Santa Claus and all his shitty presents with price tags still on them.

2. Tell the one guy who isn't drinking that "It's OK"
     "Dude, why aren't you drinking?"
  "I don't feel like it tonight."
      "What??!!?!??!?!"
 shrug  "I just don't feel like it." shrug shrug shrug
       "Pussy!", "Hahaha, lame!" "Yea I didn't feel like it either once... when I was in Jr. High!"
 Me, wanting to be supportive of people who make choices opposite of the norm, "Hey, its cool. Sometimes I don't feel like it either. Don't worry about it."
   I think the music in the bar stopped playing like it does in the movies. And everyone rolled their eyes. And I didn't even get an affirmation from the guy I was trying to side with.

3. Help the drunk waitress who is trying to take care of the table
   When I say drunk, I mean completely wasted. She even flat out told us because she kept making mistakes and everyone's reaction was a sarcastic, "Really?? You're drunk?? I had no idea!"This also led them to screw with her every time she brought a new item to the table.
   "Who had the rum and coke?... No one?"
        "I had a Dr. Pepper and whiskey."
   "Ok, seriously someone ordered this."
        "Is it a beer?"
   "No, its just... its a rum and coke. I think it's yours."
         "I wanted a sprite and vodka. Whatever, I'll just take it anyway. heh heh"
   She was a very pretty girl too so the guys took it upon themselves to try to get away with as many sexual comments as possible. For example, when she couldn't even repeat what food they just ordered, they would tell her to take off her shirt. (Extremely sneaky and clever) To which, she would giggle and squeal, "Guuuuuuys. Stop making this so hard on me. Tehee. I'm too drunk."
   Eventually, I got sick of hearing them talk to her this way. I know what its like to be drunk and not taken seriously. And just because she was super hot, was no reason to take advantage of the situation. We asked her to bring the checks and since it took her fifteen minutes to realize she didn't know what any of us got, they started getting a little peeved with her. The harassing went from light hearted fun to 'It's fun to fuck with her'.
   I made her come over to me so I could tell her what everyone had ordered. I tried to be very discreet. Not pointing, just like mom always taught me. I would quietly say, "Ok, this guy beside me got a cheeseburger and a big boy." She wrote it down. I looked over at her paper and couldn't read a damn word. I hoped it was just waitress code and that she could at least read it herself when she went back to the register. Soon enough, some of the guys caught on.
   "This guy, got eight wings, a corn dog, and a big boy."
 "Nu-uh. Don't write that down. He got the drink, not me."
        "Yea, and I'm paying for him!"
            "I didn't order a cheeseburger. It was...."
   I asked her to focus. "I'm telling you the truth." She thanked me as she walked away. It felt good to be able to help a fellow girl in need. It happens to us all at one point or another. I just hope that the next time I'm drunk, someone will take me under their wing to hide from douchey guys.
    After she left to put our orders in the computer (mostly incorrect, by the way), I was no longer "PeerPressure's friend". I was "that stupid chick that PeerPressure brought along to be a killjoy" followed by "what was he thinking?". And even though I told her every single thing my friend ordered, he only had to pay $6 for two drinks and two hot dogs.
  I like to think that the virtually free hot dogs was karma. I had spent an hour and a half with these guys. I interfered with their "good time" by just being me. And it was a thank you from the universe, rather than a hammered waitress' inability to see her own mistake.