Strange men love to say things to me. Sometimes it is polite ("You wanna sit here?" on the train); sometimes it is annoying ("I just need 87 more cents to buy a bus ticket"); sometimes it is insane ("And then I told the dog jumped why yodel Jesus snork! Damn whitey!"); sometimes it is drunk ("Yo baby, what's up?"). About a month ago, strange men saying strange drunk things to me hit a new low. A low right down there with the woman who told me not to breathe while I made her drink, many years ago when I worked for the Green Giant.
So anyway, I'm out with a female friend at the club, to see a dj from the UK who's here for one night only, etc etc. On the dance floor, my friend starts talking to this guy who was very nice and polite and generally housebroken. He is soon joined by a friend who is (of course!) not as attractive as the guy talking to my friend, but not a total Barney (NATB) either (haha, love how I just randomly decided to revive some Clueless-era 90s slang?). I'm not exactly thrilled about playing wingman, and would prefer to just dance by myself while my friend and NATB's friend chat it up. But, NATB wants to chat. Or rather, yell at me from a distance of a foot and a half, which if you've ever been in a club, you know means I had no earthly idea what the hell he was saying. Our conversation went something like this:
NATB: !!!!!!!!!!
Me: What?
NATB: !!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: I can't hear you!
NATB: (finally figuring out he needed to talk into my ear): Where are you from?
Me: Here.
NATB: HUH?!
Me: HERE!!
NATB: Oh yeah? Where do you go to school?
Me: *Named school*
NATB: Oh yeah? I went to UF/Florida State/someplace in Florida.
Me: Ok.
I'm not having it. Awkward dancing ensues. Suddenly, NATB shouts into my ear: YOU DANCE LIKE MY MOM!
NATB is drunk. He's a wingman. Plus, he went to college in Florida. Clearly, dude isn't all that bright, so I decide to give him a chance to backpeddle out of the horribleness he just created.
Me: I'm sorry?
NATB: You dance like my mom. You're way too hot to dance like that, baby.
Me: (about ready to hit someone): WHAT did you say?
NATB: You heard me, you dance like my mom. You're too sexy to dance like that, all uptight and shit.
I decided to exit stage right and go stand on the far side of my friend. I'd already been harangued by a guy who wouldn't take "I don't want to dance with you. Now. Or ever." without getting huffy, and then this joker comes along with his "You dance like my mom" bullshit. I was really not having it. Where did this crowd come from? Gwinnet county?
Well, naturally, "You dance like my mom" has become a running joke amongst some of my friends. I mean, who says that? It's damn funny, especially since it came out of his mouth THREE TIMES and he had no idea why saying something so fucktarded pissed me off. (On a side note, his housebroken friend did apologize for NATB.) One of my friends let it be known that some guy once told her that she danced like a stripper, and she'd take dancing like a mom over dancing like a stripper any day. Which begs the question, What if your mom IS a stripper? Think about it. It takes "You dance like my mom" to a completely different place.
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Slight personal news update
I dropped the creative writing class. My workload in my two required classes is too heavy (communication law, what?). Also, while I always admire the slacker dudes who are students in a writing workshop, having the professor be the slacker dude was more than I could handle. But the cool thing is my week enrolled in the course forced me to work on a story idea I've had for a long time, and I now have some words on paper.
In conclusion, my aborted mission from God proves that either a) God doesn't know what he's doing when he sends me on these fool's errands or b) I don't listen too good to God.
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