How NOT to Get a Girl's Number

I told my friend Lindsey I would blog about this story, because it’s so funny and one of those moments where you think, “dude, really?”  Since I’m 30 and not married, I have my fair share of strange dating/guy stories (like the guy who told me I “eat good for a skinny girl,” for example), but what happened to Lindsey has thankfully never happened to me.

                So we went out for drinks on St. Patrick’s Day Saturday night.  We went a little early because we knew it would be really crowded.  We had a bit of a dilemma, both of us loving basketball but not loving insane crowds, so we sacrificed the basketball in order to be somewhere we could sit down and have an actual conversation.  We were having quite a lovely time with our (very) strong drinks and catching up on life, when Lindsey got up from her seat.

                Mistake number one. 

                Because this guy came and sat right across from me.  I told him I was with a friend who would be coming back, hoping he would get the message that he was interrupting girl time (and I love my girl time) and leave, but he was pretty drunk, so no such luck.  Lindsey came back, and he stayed and tried to chat us up.  His friend Reggie came and sat thisclosetome.  Isaac (the first guy) clearly had his eye on Lindsey.  I was all over some bored body language, again hoping he would get the hint and leave.  But drunkenness and male ego won out.  Fun fact I learned in law school—men tend to mistake women’s politeness as actual interest.  Yeah no.  We were both trying to think of an excuse that would get us out of there without obviously lying, but we came up short. 

                When we did finally leave, Isaac asked for Lindsey’s number.  She told him, no, she doesn’t really give her number out to guys in bars.  A legitimate reason, and MOST guys would’ve said ok and either taken it as a rejection and been on their way or offered to give out their own number.

                This is what Isaac did instead.

                He argued.

                He told her she was lying.  He asked for the reason why she didn’t want to give him her number.   He told us we couldn’t possibly be telling the truth because we were out at a bar, so obviously we wanted to get hit on.  And he kept arguing.  I tried to be firm, but he wouldn’t let up.  Finally I got a little sarcastic and he gave in.

                I felt a little bad (only a little), but apparently by the time you’re 30, you stop caring about being polite and friendly to random guys in bars, hence why he asked for Lindsey’s number and not mine.  Although I did have a ready-made reason to tell him no (I’m taken!) had he asked.

                

               A couple of lessons for the fellas on this one:

    1.       As shocking as it may seem, some girls do go to bars for the sole purpose of having a drink or two and just talking.  Also, if you’re looking for some action, the sober girls in jeans are probably not your best bet.

    2.       Arguing with a girl over whether she should give you her number is not actually going to work on anyone who’s emotionally healthy.  In fact, trying to get a girl to do anything by arguing with her and telling her she’s lying is not the best strategy.

Through this encounter, however, Lindsey and I learned that the platypus is venomous via a spur on a hind foot.  True story.