How Not To Hit On Women At The Bar

polar: Last night lolo and I went to the opera. My friend J, who is some kind of a boss on the production team for Boston Lyric Opera, hooked us up with tickets.

By the way, The show - Bizet's "Carmen" - was fantastic and probably my favorite out of everything I have seen from BLO over the past few years.

Afterwards, we wanted to meet with J and catch up and thank him for the tickets. He was tied up in a production meeting, and so we waited by the back stage door, ogling all the actors.

lolo: They were very oglible. Ooglble? Whatever, they were cute.

polar: Finally we decide we would enjoy waiting for J that much more at a neighborhood bar, so we walked to The Tam. The Tam, if you aren't familiar, is the last remaining true dive bar in the otherwise glamorous theater district, complete with $3 Rolling Rocks and a game of Buck Hunter.

lolo: Also, you can bring pizza slices the size of your head from the place next door inside, which we did.

polar: So lolo and grab our whiskeys and sit at a table, deeply ensconced in conversation. We reiterate to each other that this is a work night and we are not to get shitfaced. We are here for one drink and to wait for J.

lolo: Definitely just one drink.

polar: However, two women enjoying each other's company is basically an abomination in this city, so in about five minutes we end up with two dudes trying to chat us up.

lolo: Actually, one of these dudes started chatting us up on our way INTO the bar before the door guy had even finished carding us. In retrospect, it was like he was trying to claim us before any other dudes inside could. Yeech.

polar: The story that follows will show their hilarious downfall. Before you get all upset, let me tell you - these dudes were awful. I am not here to bash people who try to manufacture a human connection out of thin air with a stranger in a bar. It takes a lot of guts and courage to come up to a person and start a conversation.

lolo: Right. I mean, I frequently point out to polar how antisocial bars in Boston can be. I appreciate it when people are friendly and chatty. Just the other night polar and I met an awesome couple at Park Street, and ended up exchanging contact info and hugging goodbye. We like people. We really do.

polar: Well, lolo likes people. I just kinda tolerate them more after a strong alcoholic infusion. Aaaaanywaaay... Where I am going with this is (all people hating aside) these dudes were fucking terrible! Like -- ask you a question and then interrupt you when you are answering it with a "you are so beautiful" -- kind of terrible. We tell them we are waiting for a friend, they don't go away.

lolo: Several more awkward minutes into this disaster, I literally stop the guy and tell him he is doing it all wrong, and I offer him a do-over.

polar: Yeah, I tell him he can get up, walk away, and come back to try again and we will pretend it's the first time he came to the table. No dice, he's not even listening. lolo and I are close to being openly rude (which, by the way, takes a lot since lolo is from the Midwest and therefore allergic to being rude). They STILL don't go away.

lolo: They insist on getting us another round, even though we tell them we don't want any more drinks. They get it anyway. There goes our one drink promise.... sigh.

polar: And then, right at the moment that they return with our drinks, J enters.

Now here is a quick description of J. He is like 6'4", conventionally attractive, one of these classically built dudes with the whole upside down triangle broad shoulder thing going on, ink, studded ears, and recently he bought a bike. Years ago we dated but somehow managed to not fuck up the friendship in the breakup so now we can hang together and it's not weird.

So here enters J.

lolo: It's important to be able to picture this appropriately. J strides in wearing a black leather motorcycle jacket, carrying a helmet, looking like exactly the kind of dude our suitors would be TERRIFIED of. J isn't trying to be macho or anything, he's just walking over and then sitting down, and he's still these guys' worst nightmare. One of the dudes immediately stands up and starts choking on his own words. I think he was half introducing himself and half apologizing?

polar: It was probably the most amazing entrance I've ever seen. As soon as J was at our table, one could read on the dudes' faces "Fuuuuuck! We can't compete with this..." and then they dematerialized. So now lolo and I had drinks we didn't pay for AND we didn't have to endure any more of the company of the aspiring pickup masters.

lolo: We are laughing and trying to explain to J what he managed to do for us.

polar: I told him he was like The Fonz.

lolo: Yeah, but if the Fonz was ACTUALLY cool.

polar: So what's the moral of this story? The moral of the story is to listen when you are trying to pick up women in a bar.

lolo: If they tell you you are doing it wrong, you're doing it wrong.

polar: And if they are telling you they got a friend coming, then they probably have a friend coming. And he is probably more awesome than you.

Pictured: polar leaving the bar on J's bike. 
Totally not pictured: Those dudes, thank god.