Chicago Guys: Get Your Game Together.

30 07 2012

Top 5 Game Fails

1.) So the first bar my friend and I go to in Lincoln Square is pretty dead. Mostly just old dudes drinking, watching the end of the opening ceremonies. We sit at a table. We play naked-man-match-game on the bar’s computer. We make comments about the countries walking around the track. One of my friends comments reaches the ears of a man, he turns and says something to us. We do the weird half smirk smile thing girls do when they’re trying to be polite but don’t really want anything to do with said guy. He comes over any way. He has no teeth. Okay, okay. He has a few teeth, towards the back of his mouth, but the one’s in the front are like not there at all, or they’re like small stubs where teeth used to be.

He looks like he’s 60 + but we discover he’s only 42.

Anyway, this old looking guy with no teeth says to my friend, “Oh, I got excited. You look like this other woman I know, but she has an adam’s apple.

Good game buddy, good game.

I didn’t hear this comment. I sent texts to people about this creeper at our table so creeper would realize that I was completely ignoring him and wanted him to not feel invited. I should have just told him to go away, but I knew it would come out super mean and then I’d feel like I needed to leave the bar. Should have done it anyway.

2.) We eventually do leave that bar (after I barely win competing in the longest game of darts ever). And we go to this much more packed establishment. There is no where to sit and not really anywhere to stand either. These dudes invite us to sit at their table. We agree because we’re kind of in the way and we don’t really have much choice. One guy originally appears cuter than the other guy, but then I notice his shifty jaw and his inability not to do impressions of annoying actors named Jerry: Seinfield, Springer etc.

They inform us almost immediately that they are libertarians. I don’t know exactly what my friend talked about with the Shifty-Jaw Guy, but the other one guy, we’ll call him “Old Wise One” talked my ear off, saying the most ridiculous shit about how we should live like we did in 1875 and every other stereotypical things libertarians are always saying.

Finally we leave and we’re standing outside the bar figuring out what to do next and “Old Wise One” runs to his apartment smokes a quick bong hit and runs back just to give us a copy of his terribly written political comic book. It is not funny in any way. Pretty sure he was high through all of it and has no idea what humor to non-stoned people actually reads like. Anyway. Some weird conversation between the two guys go down and “Old Wise One” tells us to email him our thoughts and he’ll catch us later. Shifty Jaw stays with us.

3.) While sitting at their table this random asian dude in an Ed-Hardy-esque shirt and slicked back hair comes up just to tell me that I am “incredibly sexy.” I should have just left to talk to him because I doubt HE was a libertarian.

4.)  My friend and I decide to walk to this other bar. The bar isn’t necessarily that close, but not that far away either. Shifty Jaw hails a cab for us anyway. We didn’t really care about the cab but we’re like, whatever. We get to the next bar and my friend takes out some money to split the cab with the guy. The guy makes her pay for the whole thing. WTF. We get into the bar. He orders a drink and then goes to the bathroom. I have to go to the bathroom too and my friend is just returning from it, so I say to her, “DO NOT pay for our drinks. He needs to pay since he bailed out on the cab.” She pays anyway. WTF.

Then, eventually, though he’s been talking to her all night, he comes up to me and says, “So, you want to come home with me tonight?”

What?

Seriously?

You’ve been a cheapskate, you’ve ignored me the entire time, you’ve made IMPRESSIONS all night and yet you think just by asking me I’m supposed to say yes? Fuck off dude.

I say, “Why would I do that when you’re obviously into my friend,” (amongst other issues).

He replies, “Well, she has a boyfriend.”

Ugh. Unbelievable.

“Well, No. Is the answer to your question. No. Now leave me alone.”

5.) I get away from Shifty Jaw and am picking out music on the jukebox. This bald guy comes over and he’s actually funny or I’m drunk, I don’t know it’s like 3 in the morning. Somehow I end up making out with him for like one minute. Maybe it’s because all the other guys have made such bad impressions (literally and otherwise). Either way. After that minute he says to me, “Wow. You’re a really good kisser.”

I look at him and say, “I know. You, not so much.”

I smile, like maybe I am joking, I, of course, am not joking. Not that he is “bad” but he is by far not “really good.”

Anyway, he still gets my number even though I tell him he’s never going to call me. And he never does.

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Chi Town not Shy Town: Day 1 Recap.

27 07 2012

So, I’m in Chicago, Day 1 Done. I told everyone before I left Denver that I might not come back. And it’s not because I lllovveee Chicago so much, but that Denver is starting to just not do it for me. I feel like I’m on the periphery of some mega-drama there and at any moment I could get pulled all the way in. Since I left theater four + years ago I’ve been attempting to live a drama-free existence (minus my brief obsession with Gossip Girl). So yeah. Here I am in the big(er) city enjoying my blend-in with humanity. Being reacquainted with what I thought I missed I’ve realized some of those longings are no longer true–and some are just as strong.

Did I Miss ____ True or False.

The Train= True. 

It’s weird how I can get right back on public transportation and feel the same exact feelings of annoyance, dread, impatience, and joy as I get to my final destination. The red line hasn’t changed a bit. Still full of crazies and very very tense people. Take last night for example. We had to switch from the brown to the red for one stop. We get on the train and this woman in a wheel chair is trying to get off the train but no one will assist her. So she’s punching the handicap button over and over and yelling at people to hold the door for her (in a polite-type of yelling) and one heroic guy runs all the way down to the conductor just to tell him she needs help. It was a team effort for sure. Community building in the city.

Kit Kat Lounge= False. 

Umm. This used to be my favorite place to go, but I think in two years my palate has changed. I won’t blame it on the veganism but the martinis that I used to love now taste like I’m drinking a glass of fruit flavored sugar (which, technically, I am). I guess I’m more a beer girl now.

Downtown = True/False. 

We went to the Signature Lounge on the 96th floor of the Hancock Building. Spectacular view. I miss the architecture, the vibrance, the constant pulsations of a large city–all of that is true. I do not miss the tourists who have no concept of sidewalk walking. I will never ever ever miss that.

(Giant spiders attacking the city!) 

My Friends = True.

Geez. What kind of person do you think I am? I don’t call them “friends” for nothing. Sometimes I just want to take my favorite people and put us all on an island somewhere. . . but we’d probably all change and end up hating each other. Which is why we live and work and play where we do, because it makes us who we are and if we weren’t there we’d be different and we maybe wouldn’t like each other anymore. Or maybe certain people are just destined to enjoy each other’s company more than other peoples. Like there are certain people who, no matter when you meet them in your life, they will automatically connect with you and then there are others who you meet at a particular time in your life over particular circumstances–a class, a game, work etc. and though you don’t necessarily have that much in common something clicks and you end up being friends for life. Or at least friends for a long time.

These are all important friend concepts to ponder before I don’t go back to Denver.

(Okay, fine, I’ll go back, don’t cry Colorado.)

(liquid candy) 





5 Randoms: My Walk is as Cheap as my Heels.

25 07 2012

1) Along with my regular workout, which is basically just running around the park followed by some sit-ups and push-ups, I have now incorporated not only KEGEL BALLs to strength my PC muscles (more, stronger, better orgasms + no pee leaking in old age) I’ve also started wearing high heels for like 20 minutes every day. High heels are hard. Walking anywhere in them is my biggest issue considering I have one of the fastest walks on the planet and when I add heels it cuts my time in half. Sad. Why am I concerned with heels?

I’m not necessarily concerned with them. But sometimes my work sells them for really cheap and I feel compelled to buy them, but there really is no point on owning them if I’m not going to wear them.

I got these purple heels for under five dollars. Aren’t they cute?

2.) Not too many super weird things have happened at work lately. Though the other day this guy asked me if we sold the nuva-ring. There was a lesbian couple standing at the counter checking out and I sort of looked at them like, “is this guy serious?” then turned to him and said, “the nuva-ring, like the birth control device? Like the thing you wear for three weeks full of hormones that you need a prescription for?”

He was like, “uugghh yeah, I think that’s what it’s called.”

Do we look like Planned Parenthood? Do any of us look like medical professionals? No dude. No.

3) July has been a lot like Manless May without the catch phrase.

4) I leave for Chicago very early tomorrow morning. I’m mostly excited to see all my lovely Chicago friends + ride the el + dip in the lake + drink martinis at the kit kat + be in a city where not EVERYONE knows my name. Seriously, Denver, you’re too small.

5) Yes, people, I’m thinking about moving out of here; if you have any suggestions, I’m open.





Oh. My. Goth.

20 07 2012

So, I guess this is the summer of trying new things. Maybe my entire life should just be about trying new things. Seems like a more adventurous sense of existence than just staying in the same scene doing the same shit all the time. Anyway. I went to my first ever GOTH BAR the other night when I got off of work. I wasn’t planning to go to a GOTH BAR, but was convinced and so it happened. I obviously didn’t fit in, but luckily I had worn a black shirt that day so at least there was a partial blend.

I’m learning how to fit in everywhere without fitting in anywhere.

I am a floater. I have no identity. Or my identity rests in the ability to identify with all people on some level.

Not just a reader of books but a reader of people. Is that weird?

I can see how some people might be intimidated by the Goth community, with their pale pale skin, they’re dark dark makeup, the platforms, the leather, the ethereal dancing, but that’s all outward appearance. Just like any other group these people want a place they belong, a place of acceptance, a place of relate-ability. And through they’re appearance they’re able to find other likeminded souls easier.

Though it’s not my style I had a great time. Perhaps because I currently don’t have much style I find intrigue in people who do.

Okay. It’s not that I don’t have style, but I feel like I’m exploring all these new places in an attempt to figure out what I do and do not like in regards to representing myself. I’m free to do whatever I want, be whoever I want, go wherever I want—and sometimes, even though this is an amazing time it my life, it can be overwhelming. (There are indeed many styles, places, things out there).

So, I’m going to be chill. I’m going to go out there and have adventures. I’m going to explore places I have never been, be around people I never thought I’d get along with, and I’m going to see where it leads.

Just the other day I swapped spit with the best kisser of my life (this is a major feat as I’ve kissed many people) and he isn’t really the type of guy I generally go for. Look what happens when one tries new things. Magic! Surprises! Entertainment!

The biggest question now is, what do I do next?





10 Randoms: Slut City Summer.

17 07 2012

1.) Our neighbors were gone for like 2 + weeks. They come back. And move out two days later. There goes our free internet and our porch chairs. Damn. Anyone looking for an apartment? It’s a cute one (with cute neighbors).

2.) I went to my first strip club the other night. Honestly, I thought I would hate it. I thought all the women would be Barbie-like with big fake boobs and tiny waists. But the opposite happened. The women were of many shapes and sizes, big boobs, little boobs, big butts, no butts, smiles, no smiles, Black, White, Asian; so many women making bank off of men. Good for them. Because until our entire system of oppressive capitalism changes. . . I say, shake what you got.  (If you’re doing it in an empowered conscientious way and not because you’re manipulated into it or feel like it’s your only choice.) Also, it made me feel more comfortable in my own skin. Seeing women of all shapes and sizes completely naked and embracing their sexuality was revealing–on multiple levels.

3.) Also, that very night I ended up at a random Reggae event. It was Black & White themed. Good thing I went or the “white” part of the theme probably wouldn’t have happened.

4.) I’ve been getting mega-creepers at work. Two in one week. And I’ve realized it’s incredibly difficult to tell other people how someone else is being creepy. Creepy is hard to describe because it’s not just what they say, but how they say it. It’s a look in their eye. It’s doing something awkward and taking too long of a time doing it. It’s lying and being terrible at it. Guess what creeps? Just because I sell sexy things doesn’t mean I want to have sexy time with you.

5.) Speaking of sex. I’ve decided to have more of it with more people. I am determined to become a Super Slut. Every. Single. Dick. In. Denver. (That’s every Single dick, as in, not-taken dick, not every single one of them.)

6.) 5 is not completely true.

7.) I’ve realized that for many many years I have been incredibly good at reading people; what they need, what they want, and then mirroring those needs and wants for them. This has come in handy in regards to my like-ability—as I have a rather abrasive personality or I can be abrasive if I’m not careful. But, that’s the thing. I am not going to be careful anymore. I’m going to stop mirroring and I’m going to start living for me. I’m going to go after what I want, what I need, and I’m going to stop caring if other people care. This has been a theoretical issue with me for years, in concept I don’t care, but in reality I totally do. No longer! Sure, perhaps I will turn into a narcissistic ego-maniac but it’s not like I’ll be the first. And if it doesn’t work out for me, I can always go back to who I was before, right?

8.) The biggest issue is figuring out what I want. Wading through what society has told me I should want and what I want deep down within. Hence the Super Slut. Being a “slut” is “bad”. . . but why? Why does monogamous heterosexual relationships have to be “the norm” and even if they are “the norm” why do they have to be “the only” acceptable relationship model. To me it appears to be another way of controlling women’s goddess-like sexual allure. By taming us sexually, you control us on all fronts (it’s a theory I’m still working through…perhaps too third-wave post-feminist but whatever). I don’t agree with the monogamy model. I find it boring. Sure it works well for people. I actually don’t know if it “works well” for most people, but it works okay for the general public. But the general public has no confidence and likes to follow guidelines instead of inventing their own.

9.) I’m going to invent my own guidelines. If you’d like to follow them, you’re more than welcome.

10.) I’m excited for the development of my new personality. Be on the look out people. It’s either going to be the. most. amazing. thing. ever. or the Crashiest Trashiest Courtney Love-esque down-fall you’ll ever witness.

(I feel like there is a bigger development here that I haven’t quite discovered yet, perhaps tomorrow it will all tie together).





The Hierarchy of the Dollar Bill.

2 07 2012

I’ve been trying to determine if it’s worse being a stripper and having to pay for everything in one dollar bills or being paid eight dollars an hour to take the hundred one dollar bills (that she probably earned in less than an hour) from a stripper.

Yesterday all my co-workers and I had to drive out to the middle of nowhere suburb to find out they’re taking away 1% of our 2% commission. There was no justification for this besides an email stating that basically we were doing an awesome job and they didn’t want to pay us for that.

This a perfect example of how corporations fuck over their employees. Once we actually start doing well, making them a ton of money, they get greedy and try to take it all for themselves. They need to understand that keeping us happy would actually improve their revenue and keep us loyal to them as a company.

They earn their labor costs for an entire week in one afternoon.

They sell everything in the store for at least 50% more than cost.

Sales reps get 1% of our daily sales.

When I sale a $100 toy (that cost the company $40) I get one dollar.

Strippers get one dollar in one second just for winking at a guy.

I give people hours upon hours of pleasure via their sales purchase.

Strippers give people just a fleeting moment of pleasure.

Is this not ass backwards?

I am already bitter about the fact that I am over-educated and working in retail.

The fact that the company has no ownership regarding the decision to take away the other 1% commission of our daily goal makes me want to rage. It makes me want to start my own store. It makes me want to cry. Cry because I am at the bottom and some incredibly selfish greedy asshole is at the top and there is nothing I can do about it.

Except of course, take the hundred one-dollar bills with a smile and say, “money is money.”

And cringe at the fact that I have none.