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December 01, 2004
Bars with My Mom
These days whenever I talk to my mom she asks me about the ex girlfriends of mine that she has met.
Fine. I think. Yeah, we still talk sometimes.
She's doing well.
Who? Oh. Her. I think she was committed.
Mom. Drop it. I'm not going to go out with any of them again.
She explains that she doesn't want me to go out with any of them; she's just wondering.
Ok. Good, because I'm not going out with any of them again.
She asks whom I'm going out with.
No one.
She asks if I'm looking.
Yeah. sure. I guess. Not really though.
She asks what else I've been up to. Where else I've been going.
I go to bars sometimes.
What? Bars? You'll never find a good girl at a bar!
Mom, I'm good right? (She can't say no, I'm her son) I go to bars.
But it's ok for men. Men have a long history in bars. Brian, you don't want to meet a girl in a bar.
Why not?
You just don't want that kind of girl.
Mom, we have different taste in women.
Anyway, I have to say she's wrong. I met a nice bartender once. Real nice. I got really drunk and asked her if she wanted to do something. She told me very, very nicely to get lost.
And while I don't actually try to pick up women in bars I've met some nice female friends. Take for example Jessica, who just so happens to have decided to be a nice friend and recount one of our recent bar conversations in effort to prove my psychic barber correct, or at least speed up the process.
See Mom, nice girls go to bars. Besides. I've been told (by one of those ex's you like so much) I'm only "fun" when I'm drunk.
Posted by calculatoronfire at December 1, 2004 12:58 PM