Meeting guys at bars is a tough call these days. For me, when I go out,
I’m out with my friends and don’t want to spend my time talking to a complete rando unknowing if he is just trying to pick me up for a one night stand or not. Plus, I’m incredibly picky, so if the guy isn’t drop dead gorgeous and doesn’t have a perfectly witty pick-up/opening line, then chances are I won’t give them my time. As I said, I’m there with my friends to have fun, not network.
Flip it around, and guys don’t have it all that easy either. Their chances of a girl being receptive to him approaching her is 1 in 5. She will either think he is a creep, already have a boyfriend, not be interested, be having a girls’ night out…or will take interest in him. All in all, finding a match at a bar is increasingly difficult for everyone.
Early September 2013, my friends and I were having a Sunday Funday brunch at a local bar to kickoff the start of football season. Midway through the game, a group of guys were seated a few tables from us, and one tall, scruffy guy caught my eye. People weren’t mingling around at this bar, so I knew there was no chance we would cross paths and start talking. So before we left, I wrote my number on a napkin, went up to him at his table of friends, gave him my number, and then bolted. I imagine myself being incredibly awkward…but it worked! He texted me saying he was flattered and impressed by my boldness. We planned to meet up that week. Brace yourself, this is one of my few two-part tales.
For our first date, we met at the bar around the corner from me. (Funny enough, this is the first first date I had here; it has since seen me have numerous other first dates, so I can only imagine what the servers think of me.) He was a bit better looking from far away, but hey, he wasn’t bad. Per usual, I still found flaws.
Problem #1: Total Bro
Right off the bat, it was obvious that this guy was a bro. One of the first things he told me was how that Sunday ended with him and his friends getting so wasted that he had to go into work an hour late. Honestly, I didn’t care so much about that because I can appreciate an aggressive Sunday Funday here and there. But – and yes, this is why I’m picky – it was the bro-ness in his voice when he told the story that just screamed “SHOTS FOR DAYS! I AM A BRO!”
Guess what? That’s the only major problem I found on that first date. Unfortunately, I didn’t feel any chemistry, but it was definitely worth another shot.