Monday, August 25, 2008

First Impressions

I'm really, really good at being myself so much so that people often run away screaming the first time they meet me. I'm honest, tactfully honest and sarcastic, and I don't see it as a character flaw because why would you want to dull yourself down, hide things about yourself then suddenly spring them on people later? That's when people really get pissed. Lets just say that smart, pleasant people that I want to hang out with get me and enjoy my company, so in a way, my uncanny ability to be me from the start is just a way to weed out all the losers right away.
Well, this weekend was a shining example of how first impressions can be a bitch. Friday night was the stickiest, muggiest night of the Kansas City summer so I decided to go out in about half the clothes I normally would. I wore what I like to call the slut skirt or the trouble skirt, aptly named for its teeny tiny-ness and the fact that the first time I wore it, in Cancun, the wind caught the little bottom ruffle just right and all of a sudden *ass* *ass* *ass*. I was embarrassed at first and tried to contain it, but then after realizing it was a lost cause along with downing a few more rum punches, I just said, 'what the hell do I care? I'm in motherfucking Cancun!' and just let it flap in the breeze. All night guys were coming up to me and saying 'that's the best skirt I've ever seen,' and I'm like yes, I know, because I look like a stripper.
Anyway, it was Andrew's birthday and we headed to the Foundry in Westport where everything on the menu is '70s-tastic. We had been eyeing this intriguing tacky tiki pitcher full of jungle juice thing on the menu for weeks, saying we'd get it for the first special occasion because downing a mixture of fruit punch, Bacardi 151, peach schnapps and Boone's Farm requires a special occasion. And, what's more special than Big Gay Andrew turning 25?
So, the Foundry's jungle juice tiki pitcher (which we quickly named "tiki tiki timbo" after that one book we read in second grade) and I were introduced for the first time.



A little later into the night I somehow realized, via text I think, that this guy, Jon, (that's not Jon in the pic, just Tiki) I'd been chatting with a bit on Match.com was in Westport and I thought it to be a great idea for us to meet each other for the first time while shitfaced on Tiki Tiki Timbo. However, I notice when I met him in McCoy's, the bar connected to the Foundry, he was more drunk than I was, but he was also quite hot, allowing me to somehow look past his stumbly-ness, douchebag friends, the fact that he forgot his wallet at McCoy's when we went back to the Foundry and a smoking habit that he conveniently left out of his profile and our conversations.
After hanging out at the table with us for a few minutes, he went to the bar and disappeared for six years. Meanwhile, I go the bathroom and come back to the table to find Lacey with a paper party hat on each ear, Kate with one over each eye and Lacey shoving one in my hand saying, 'here! put this over your mouth!' I of course, don't even hesitate and strap it to my face for a few pictures right as Jon decides to come back to the table. He immediately gives me a hideous look, a nervous, trying-to-be-nice laugh, blurts out some lame excuse that his friends want to leave, but we'll still meet up on Sunday like we'd planned and literally RUNS out of the bar. I think all the fun scared him away. Pansy.
I mean, who wouldn't love this?


Or this?


C'mon, this is just sexy.


After the bars closed, Tiki Tiki Timbo decided to run away from me too - in the form of pink puke in Kate and Sam's toilet. Tiki Tiki is a dick.
The next night involved a 1980s themed bus party - another birthday for some girls I know through my friend Jeff. Oh, and the girls and I take theme parties very seriously. We were sorority girls you know. The horrendousness that was the white, lattice boots I wore on my feet was unsurpassed probably even compared to things people who actually grew up in the '80s wore. And, we can't forget the hot pink mesh shirt or the half side ponytail I sported either.



Partying '80s style on a bus was amazing partly because my friend Tom made an '80s mix CD allowing Lacey and I to relive our fourth grade dance classes with "Rhythm is a Dancer" (technically early 90s, but still awesomely awful)and also allowing Kate to teach me the hidden lyrics to "Get outta my dreams, get into my car." Something about Kate belting out "GET-IN-THE-BACKSEAT-BAY-BAAAY!" sent me into a fit of hysterical laughter.
Everything was just fabulous until we reached the first bar and I learned an interesting piece of information from one of the girls I met through a girl on my volleyball team. A few weeks ago, Jeff and some of his crew met me at a bar and after hanging out for a few minutes, one of the girls in his group pulled him aside and suddenly he throws his hands in the air and storms out of the bar with her running after him. I found this very odd since Jeff never gets mad, but I never really pried, nor was I told the cause until Saturday night.
Apparently a note I sent through the group e-mail about shirts for the next Crawl for Cancer was taken as rude and now I'm suddenly despised by this girl I barely even know and have been nothing but pleasant to. This is what it said:

"I need a small and I vote for purple shirts, but I know they will be vetoed immediately you shitheads. ; )"

Note the winky face, which means I'm just kidding around, something any normal person would realize. Also, this was directed at Jeff because he loves KU and hates K-State even though he went to Stanford - something I give him shit about all the time. Really? If you took offense to that you e-mail you should seriously think about having that giant stick surgically removed from your asshole.
Suddenly, after learning this interesting piece of information, I was acutely aware of the fact that several of the girls in the group were staring down the three "new" girls. It was embarrassing since Kate and Lacey are basically the most fun, nice and accepting people I know. I just don't understand why so many girls do this to each other. Why in the hell would you want to alienate yourselves from three kick ass, cool chicks and make them feel unwelcome just because you've never met them before? Whatever happened to making new friends, being friendly and channeling your energy into having fun instead of wasting it on being an unjustifiable bitch?
Sadly I'm used to it and I just ignore it because I'm nobody new. Jeff and I have been friends since we were 16 and I'm just lucky I have a friend like him that will stick up for me even to the point of uncharacteristic pissy-ness. I'm sure as hell not letting a couple of girls stuck in the complexities of high school clicks scare me away and neither is he. And, like I said, the girls in the group who are smart and I want to hang out with get me and enjoy my company, so I'm not worried about it.

In case you were wondering, Sunday came and went without a call from Jon. I sent him a message Monday night asking if he'd perhaps misplaced my number or gotten scared away by the party hats...nothing. Eh, who needs him. He lied about being a smoker, so I probably would have brushed him off anyway. Plus, if he can't handle a few strategically placed party hats, then he wouldn't have been able to hang anyway. Funhater.

In closing, I think the sentiments of this blog are best summed up by the lyrics of the great Dr. Dre: "If y'all don't like me, blow me."

2 comments:

Kate said...

Here's to hanging out with unjustifiable bitches at the Crawl for Cancer this weekend! Oh, and when it comes to the picture of us with the party hats on, I know I'd do me. We're awesome. That guy was a tool ;)

Organic Meatbag said...

Awesome...you totally could have been a Duran Duran groupie in the 80's judged by your 80's night garb, but I am even more impressed with your rock star-type bravado...cones on the boobicles...awesome!

 

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