Fishy Face Man

A girl has definitely got to look out for herself.

In addition to hanging out with my friend from high school and her friends on a restaurant back patio in Sandusky (read below post), there was also some night life that joined us.

I recognize I am not a typical girl, and I admit I am more of a hermit than I am to go out and be a part of the night life.  I can count on one hand the number of times I've actually ever been to a bar, and on the other hand I can count the number of alcoholic drinks I've ever had.

A bar's dark setting, the loud music when it's actually not supposed to be a freakin' concert, strangers sitting up close and trying to put up a front while they talk to you and try to impress you, the alcohol kicking in....it makes me uncomfortable and wonder what each person is hiding behind their liquid courage.  Suggestion: if you want to hang out with me, do not offer to take me to a bar.  Let's go out and explore something instead!

So it figures that when I actually do end up in a bar-related setting (like this bar/grill patio), I am going to have to hold my own and just be a good sport.  Even when shockingly outgoing people walk up, plop down next to you, and insist on spending the next 2 hours talking to you.

Bring in Fishy Face Man.  I don't remember his real name, because he was so weird and first introduced himself as Josh, no wait then it was John, and then his buddy called out and actually said it was Stewie.  Do you see The Front starting already?  Whatever.  Fishy Face Man looked to be about my age, but he was a scrawny fellow wearing some light blue tee shirt that had a message printed across it that read, "Hooked on Fishing, Not on Drugs." 

Dork.

I am innocently sitting with my friends, at a closed table of four, when he plops down and pulls a chair from the next-door table over to me and insists on starting to talk to me.  OK, I can handle this before I wave him off.  What the hell does he even want?  Do I know you?

No, I don't.  But he wants to know me, so he is asking what I am doing, who am I visiting; oh, I am from out of town, where am I from?  I work for Honda?  What do I do there?  Wow, I am a quality engineer, so he laments that I am probably too smart for him to talk to me.

Much to my demise he does not take his own hint and continues to ask questions.  He tries to buy me a drink, but that falls flat because he has NO CLUE how I am a pretty closed-off girl when it comes to courting and flirting crap like this.  He goes to the bar and brings back a drink for me, but I am hard-nosed and have no clue what the hell he could have stuffed in that drink!  I do not even touch it, and he takes notice and starts to panic and talk more, and more, and more.  I thank him for the drink but told him that I told him in the first place to not buy me a drink.

You see?  I am not cut out for the bar scene and trying to explain myself to people!

I still do my best to talk to this guy and treat him like a human being.  I ask him about his job (he is a laborer and helps lay blacktop for a pavement company).  Of course he talks to me about fishing, and how I am from Wisconsin and one of the most premium fishing rod companies is based out of Wisconsin.  He asks me about all the car stuff I know how to do, and just as I start listing off stuff like bumpers, headlights, taillights, seats, interior, taking apart a dashboard, changing your oil, his buddy (yes, there were two of these guys!) cuts in ---

"Wait, your conversation with this girl on a Friday night at a bar is about OIL?!?!"

I stop, turn, and look at this boisterous idiot with a dumbfounded look on my face.  Did I just do something wrong?  Am I a dork, too?  (Well, I already know the answer to that!)

Fishy Face Man gets upset that his buddy just blocked him, so the two of them exchange heated words for a long 5 seconds.  I was wishing I could just dissolve into my chair at this point.  Remember, I wanted none of this?!  This guy is just so scrawny!  I was only trying to be a nice girl at this point in the night!  Bah!

Fishy Face Man turns back to me and apologizes and says, "This has been a really great time, right?!  I have had some really great conversation with you.  You're so cool and laid back."



OK.


Then I look around at the other night life in the bar, and I realize that, yup, sure enough, I am not like many other girls there.  I do not have my nails done.  I am not wearing any hoochie clothes.  My make-up from 5:30 that morning before work is running thin.  I am not stopping every 5 seconds to check my phone, or look down to make sure my boobs are popping out of my shirt juuuust right.  I am not talking valley talk to my girls and going to the bathroom in groups with them.   I am not bitching about my life or sitting bored, unamused, looking around for an escape plan.

I (think I) come across as pretty grounded; if you talk to me I'll talk to you.  I am not a girly-girl, I don't follow the latest celeb gossip.  I actually like to get hands on and do activities that most girls would curl their nose at.  I am not afraid to step up.  I will call it as I see it.  And this guy seemed just so blown away that I was actually not like so many other women out there!  It just drove his curiosity about me, that much further.  Oy.

Here I am just sitting contently, talking to this guy, and asking him about himself.  Giving him a chance to explain himself, maybe feel some pride when he is explaining his life to me, a total stranger.  I am listening to him, I am giving him some good down-to-earth respect.  Even though in my head I already know where this is going, I still bite my tongue and be fair.  Do other girls not do this?

He asks me questions and I answer him straight and to the point.  I use colorful expressions, I make witty remarks that catch him and his buddies off guard.  Of course he does some fishing of his own and tries to make comments like how I have a really cute smile; he was hoping to ask me to breakfast and lunch the next day, blah blah blah, but I look him in the eye and distract him with questions about what his favorite food is, I talk about braces and the dental work I've had done, etc.  I blow right over the top of his approaches and it is, again, a challenge to him.

Sorry, man; I appreciate your guts to put yourself out there, but I have worked very hard to take care of myself and I keep tight who I let inside.  I have shown you that I am not your typical bar catch, now show me if you can match that.  Show me your smart-ass side, show me your intelligence.  Catch me off guard.  Challenge me.  Show me your interests and what things you take seriously.  Show me your humble side and how you are a man of service.  What do you give back in your life?  Do not kiss my ass, do not try to drown me in syrupy-sweet nothings.  Be real with me, because I am being honest and real with you.

Heavy stuff, I know this!  Again, not cut out for the nuisance of a bar scene.

Fishy Face Man finally cools off and treats me like a human, and realizes he won't get chastised by just making small talk with me, no pressure.  It is at this point that I can finally calm down, and I sense in him that he lets his Front fall away and he is more comfortable, too.  See?  You should have been able to act like this the whole time, Dork!

At the end of the night he just shakes my hand, gets up, and walks away.  Thank God I did not have to give up a phone number, as he did not even ask.  I'd like to think that how I treated him, helped him realize how the Front is unnecessary and if he really wants to do this right, he should always just be himself.  Fishy Face Man moves on, hopefully with this new token of wisdom, and hopefully, to find a Little Miss Fishy.  She should be a true fit for him, and not started from something fabricated in a bar one night.

Good riddance, and good bye to the bars for the night!  Sheesh.