Sunday, February 26, 2012

Happy Belated Birthday, Elle!

Quick story. (Then again, it's me, so this could take a bit)

Yesterday was Elle's 29th birthday. Yay!

Here's an example of how my night went:

This guy (wearing an enormous cubic zirconia stud in one of his ears) walks over and attempts to converse with me as Elle, Rawr and I did one's level best to hear him over the blaring bagpipes and drums. He gestures to an empty chair at our table and I tell him to take it as we weren't using it. He sits down instead.


Me: [quickly switching gears] Hi!

Fake Stud: [mouth moving but no audible sound]

Me: WHAT?

Fake Stud: Hi.

We entered the usual conversation and asked where the other was from, how the night was going, whatever. He had a slight accent, but I couldn't place it. He almost sounded like he was trying to be Irish (we were, of course, at Kells and quite often poor saps think that if they act hot and Irish it will improve their chances with the ladies. I am here to inform those saps that it does NOT), but he also sounded a bit European.

Me: Where are you from?

Fake Stud: I'm German.

Me: Really. What brings you here? [recognizing that this fool does NOT sound German. Thinking perhaps he's from deep in the backwoods or something and maybe there's a very rare form of German accent that I've yet to experience]

Fake Stud: I'm here for the summer.

Me: [confused] But it's February.

Fake Stud: [stare] Let's dance.

Me: Oh-kaaaaay.

That lasted all of five seconds because I do not particularly like the bump and grind style of dancing that he was accosting me with, and after I was thoroughly creeped out, Fake Stud nearly licked my face when he leaned in and shouted "YOU'RE SOBER, AREN'T YOU?!"

I just turned around and walked back to my table only sit sit down, give Elle and Rawr the "Gee, what a weirdo" look and find Fake Stud grinning at me from across the table. Dude was like fly paper.

Elle and Rawr laughed and abandoned me there (worry not, for retribution is on it's way for those two buttfaces). After he and I stared at each other for a while, Fake Stud leaned in and kind of spit a little on my face when he told me (again) that he was from Germany. I thought he was trying to sell the exotic thing a bit too hard.

Me: You don't really sound German.

Fake Stud: I'm from Auschwitz.

Me: [blink] Did you just say-  As in the.... In...

Fake Stud: Near Berlin.

Me: [stare, blink, ponder, incredulity virtually spewing from every pore] Uhmm....

Fake Stud: [sitting there with a blank look on his face]


Apparently he thought I was effing retarded, because while I sat there trying to wrap my head around what he just said, Fake Stud moved on to ask me if I spoke any languages. I told him that I knew a tiny bit of Spanish, but not enough to lay claim to being bi-lingual. He assured me that not only did he speak German, but Spanish, French and Russian. I told him that Elle could speak German [which she totally cannot) and watched as he FINALLY excused himself and never came back.

Seriously? SERIOUSLY? This dude claimed to be from Auschwitz. I'm willing to bet that there isn't a soul on this earth that hasn't heard of World War 2 and what the hell happened to the Jewish people, and this guy tells me he's from a concentration camp. It's like, if I lived in L.A. and someone asked where I was from, I say to them Hey, I'm from Disneyland just because it's well known. WHO DOES THAT?

I turned around and (rudely, I suspect) interrupted the table behind me just to clarify whether I was bat-crap crazy or not. I got a few different responses:

  • You're Jewish, right?
NO! I'm not. And wouldn't that be WORSE?!

  • I'm a performer
Okay, that's somewhere I am NOT going.

  • Are you Irish? (from the same guy who thought I was Jewish)
No. Wait. Why do you keep trying to guess my heritage?

The rest of the night was awesome and I think the best part was when we were on our way home and Elle informed me that after our 20 minute drive home back to our city, I needed to drive the sitter home which was AWESOME because the sitter lived clear on the other side of town which was another 20 minutes our and twenty minutes back.

I told Elle that I hoped she would expire before morning and finally crashed into bed at 3am.

Still earlier than last time.



1 comment:

Gary said...

HAHA! Classic! "you're sober, aren't you?" What a tool! Good work Me.