Thursday, May 05, 2005

"34B AL-RIGHT?!"

A friend of mine recently purchased a bar, on the west side of Youngstown where I have revived the career formerly known as bartender. I've also been working at a banquet center (long hours, pretty easy work) where I am also getting bartending shifts. I really need to write about that, because that is worth writing about~ I think all the employees are DRUNK by the end of the night
but anyway.
I was working the afternoon bar shift today and serving glasses of wine to a 50 something year old man that is a regular to the bar. He's a little bit perverted, but he's nice enough...and getting even nicer with every glass of wine I give him.
By the third glass:
Guy at bar: "you know, like carnivals and festivals and such?"
me: "yeah, carnivals. I've been to a carnival or two."
GAB: " well, I used to guess things, like weight... and women's bust sizes."

I am standing there behind the bar, and it only takes a millisecond to hone in on where this is going...

(this is coming after an exhausting two week of new-job-people-finding-out-how-old-I-ACTUALLY-am, and directly off of a conversation where as, I tell him how old I am which in turn, somehow entitles him to get more PERSONAL.)

me: "no. dude. you don't guess women's bra sizes at carnivals. not even in vegas, man." (I HATE this crap.)
DAB: "uh, lemme see, I bet I can guess yours! Um...lemme see....."
he instantly starts naming numbers outloud...

me: (O.M.G. this motherfucker is staring at my boobs in my shirt, using some LAME ASS excuse to stare at my boobs in my shirt. he's LOOKING hard at my BOOBS! Here, could ya move yur drink so that I can mount this bar and giddyup into my coveted bendover move so that you can evaluate my ASS?!. jerk. your game is wack, jack.)
he's still calling out numbers. "36C!...36D!..."
me: " alright, man, you're all wrong."
he was relentless.
me: "34B AL-RIGHT?!"

I'm so embarrassed. I feel like I've just given my first lap dance. I never felt this way about this stuff when I was younger, but of course those were cute college boys guessing back then

So, after I successfully changed the subject, he started reeling it in again. He was telling me about how the young boys aren't respectful, and how the older gentlemen will take women out to dinner on dates, and more malarke.
he finally got the wine balls to ask me if I ever dated an older man.
(ouggh. no way. oooh.)
me: "I like em young." (WELL??? What else was I going to say??)
DAB: "Why not, you never know..."
me: "ohh, I got a really emotional father complex." (not really)

THAT"S what else I could have said, because IT worked.

If there's one thing I like being a woman, it's catching a guy glancing at my boobs.
A non-chalant regular ordinary guy thing.
If there's one thing I hate about being a woman, it's having some drunk fucker size me up -blatently. For a dollar tip.

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