Rude Dude

Saturday · January 05, 2002 · 07:18 PM

While I’m sitting in front of my computer (planning tonight’s debaucheries), I’ll share a conversation that I overheard while getting a drink at the Thirsty Scholar. I really like this place.

There’s a couple sitting near the end of the bar and the guy had drunk a bit too much (you can tell by the slow, awkward movements, slurring of words, and the drooling). He’s staring at Kate, the bartender. Actually he’s staring at her boobs. His girlfriend seemed to take exception to this and had a few choice words.

His reply was something to the effect of “those aren’t nipples, they’re eyeball magnets”. While I thought this was humorous, it’s not exactly a good way to defuse the situation.

There are two weird things here: This guy has a steady girlfriend who went home with him (they left together, but I think she was still a little steamed – he probably didn’t get any). I think this speaks volumes about her (poor) choice in men.

The other weird thing (and the weirder of the two) – I felt protective of Kate, for some reason. I hardly know her and she probably couldn’t pick me out of a line up or recognize me on the street. She serves me a beer every couple weeks and she’s never said more than a < irish_accent > “what’ll you be having” < / irish_accent > or told me the cost of my beer. Somehow this lecherous clod triggered my “chivalry instinct”.

Stare at my bartender’s breasts and I’ll kick you in the cranium! You’ve been warned.