The Three Stooges

Sometimes you have those nights when everyone that tries to hit on you is just the worst person ever. Now, I’m not saying this happens all the time (thank you Jesus), but it certainly does happen.

I’m at Tutu’s, a Bushwick local of mine, one evening with a few of my gal pals. We’re sitting at the bar having drinks, laughing and just generally having a merry old time. My friends decide to go out and have a smoke, as a non-smoker, I am elected to stay at the bar and watch our drink and purses. I am minding my own business when one of the guys down the bar a few seats, tries to get my attention. This one is a catch; balding, beer belly, plus an ill fitting suit. You know the type. After I smile courteously at him he tells me that he likes my shirt. He seems to search for the right word for a few seconds before he comes out with “It’s really pattern-y”. I stare at him, unsure of how to respond to this magnificent compliment. He then makes a joke about how that’s not actually even a word. I’m thinking, no shit. As I feel the awkward train start to go off the rails my girls come back just in time and save me.

Terrible guy number two comes into the picture. He is sitting right next to me so there’s no getting away. He asks me the usual questions such as, “Are you from New York”, “How long have you been here” and “What do you do?” When we get to the part where I tell him that I dance, he asks what kind of dance. I always hesitate before saying modern dance, because you always receive a blank look, as the guy has no idea what is it, followed by “What is modern dance exactly?” However, this guy surprises me by asking “You do Harry Potter dance?” I almost died and it was all I could do to keep from laughing straight to his face. This led on to a whole discussion about witches and wizards, where I park my broomstick, and that kind of nonsense. After awhile I can’t believe that we’re still talking about Harry Potter shit. It all started with Harry Potter dance, and what the fuck is that really? Nothing that I’ve ever heard of. It was amusing for about 2.5 seconds, and now I’m over it. But this guy just keeps going to town. I start being a little less cordial as the conversation drags on and he senses this and gets butt hurt. He ends our conversation with “I’d have to fly around on a broomstick to impress you!” So mature, I know. Never fear however, this does not stop him from turning right around to try his luck with the girlfriend that I’m with at the bar. If at first you don’t succeed, try try again. Except not, please guys don’t do this.

On to the last of the terrible three. This guy is somewhat of a silver fox. He’s definitely got some salt and pepper going on, but is still attractive enough. He follows the same strategy as guy number one and also leads in about my shirt. Not to worry though, he uses a different angle. The fox that he is, he goes right in for the kill. “I like your shirt”, pause for a second while he looks at my chest, “It makes your boobs look good.” Strangely enough, this is somewhat insulting to me, weird right? My friend that I’m with is also slightly outraged by this less than stellar pick up attempt. Not even trying to sugar coat, we both tell this douche to leave us alone. He up and calls my girlfriend a first class bitch (now that’s definitely going to win me over) and after a few attempts to explain to me why I should be flattered by his awful compliment about my rack, he cuts his losses and finally leaves us alone.

Sometimes it’s just the luck of the draw, or maybe once a month, all the douches come out on the full moon or some shit like that. Whatever the reason, there are evenings when a girl just gets bombarded by awful men. More often than most, the men are together and when one friend strikes out, the second one takes his place. But every now and then you have that special occurrence of multiple guys hitting on you in succession who have no relation to each other, and each one is worse than the next. It’s like the least funny Three Stooges ever when Larry has no game, Moe acts like a retard, and Curly’s been replaced by some asshole.  


About 25shotsandcounting

My name is Sylvia. I’m a 22 year old girl living in NYC. For reasons I wish I knew, I get hit on a lot. I don’t think it’s because I’m particularly more attractive, funnier or even more intelligent than other girls. I’m convinced that it’s some kind of weird aura that only men can sense. An invisible sign that says, “Well hi there, I’m open for business.” Ironically, I’m usually not. The idea for this blog came about while I was dating a bartender in Williamsburg. I would go his bar and have several drinks by myself while waiting for him to get off work. Like clockwork, it was usually only a matter of time before I had a parade of guys come and talk to me. So much so that it became a running joke between my boyfriend at the time and all of his co-workers, just betting how long it would take before I had my next victim. Sometimes flattering, sometimes annoying, other times like some sort of scientific curiosity, the unelicited attention became enough of a pattern to notice and, free drinks aside, generally dread. I seem to be a magnet for awkward pick up attempts, which sometimes lead to misadventures of one kind or another. I know this is a common phenomenon for young women in NYC, but I figured, why not write about it.
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2 Responses to The Three Stooges

  1. Gina says:

    There is definitely something about men at a bar; when they sense it’s not going well, they feel the need to throw all their cards on the table, or maybe just shove them in our faces. Quit while you’re behind, gentlemen. Please, for the love of god, don’t wait until you’re WAY behind or excruciatingly far behind.
    I was at a pub this past weekend and this man asked me to dance. Harmless enough, I stupidly assumed. While dancing, I learned that he is Latvian, has lived in London for 7 years, and is a contractor. While talking my ear off about his employment, he informed me he fixes floors, installation, plumbing, electrical issues, and to top it all off, he assured me this means that he can “do ANYTHING. I will do absolutely ANYTHING.”
    Yeah, no thank you, strange Latvian man. You are not welcome anywhere near my plumbing.

  2. Jeyna Grace says:

    Harry potter dance? Hahaha! Never heard of it either.

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