Who Needs a Wingman?

This was one of my first times out since a very rough New Year’s. Don’t expect a blog post about that night, simply because I don’t remember it. And apparently, I was lost about half of the night. While I was told I was really hitting it off with a girl at one point, I awoke the next morning (in my suit, bow-tie still tied, sleeping on a hanger, my wallet missing, and cursed with a splitting headache) with no new phone numbers in my phone.

This night is different; this night Ryan and I are going out with Jordan, his wife, and two of her friends. One of her friends has a boyfriend and the other has a fiancé. By the end of the night, Ryan and I have the drunken chant “engaged, boyfriend, married!”

We’re idiots.

It’s technically a “Girls’ Night” and a “Guys’ Night” where we take the same car into Palo Alto, separate, then meet up later on. This is also when I was still contemplating whether or not to take a break from dating.

Ryan, Jordan, and I get to the first bar (sans Engaged, Boyfriend, Married) where Jordan has a game plan to get Ryan as drunk as possible. He gets Ryan to chug my beer while I’m in the bathroom. Then, as Ryan is in the bathroom, Jordan goes over and talks to two women across the bar. I join him shortly to help out. Turns out that they’re German, and one of them in under 21. Ryan comes back, so Jordan and I switch conversation to highlight Ryan. However, they get boring, so we move on to a new bar.

This is the bar where Engaged, Boyfriend, Married are having their girls’ night, so we say a quick “Hello” and go off to the back patio. About 5 beers in (2 Jordan made him chug), Ryan is very drunk. With all inhibitions gone, he just starts going up to women to talk to them. For some reason, the two he went up to are also German (I really don’t know if there is a big transplant of Germans in the Palo Alto area or if it’s just a weird coincidence). After some (relatively odd and) reasonably aggressive flirting, he gets the two girls to go to the dance floor with him. Jordan and I follow, just enjoying Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride.

Those two get bored and disappear somewhere, so we move on. Ryan starts talking to some random girl, I don’t know how, and I go in to wingman by talking to her cute friend. We exchange pleasantries, but otherwise, I don’t get much from this girl. Ryan, however, gets a phone number. The night took a turn for the weird, but it doesn’t fit the theme of this blog, so I’ll omit it.

Shortly after, he went on an okay date with her. On the plus side, she was a Sharks fan; on the negative side, she didn’t know who Luke Skywalker was. Deal-breaker? Apparently, for nerds like us, it almost was. I still tried to convince him to see her, because well…it’s someone to date, so what’s the worst that could happen? But we didn’t see them again until about a month and half later.



Rule #7: Every Girl Crazy ’bout A Sharp Dressed Man

Make sure you put your pants on, because when I walk outside naked, people throw garbage at me. Now this is not a style blog, so I’m not going to go into fashion, even though I easily could. This is just a post to remind you all to be aware of what you wear.

Know the type of situation you’ll be in. For most bars, especially Northern California, t-shirt and jeans are not only the norm, they’re expected. The more dressed up you get, the more you stand out, and that’s not always a good thing. The key to being a well-dressed-man is dressing for the occasion. If you’re going to an upscale club, by all means, wear your three-piece-suit you recently had tailored because you can pull it off (provided that it’s GCWOK-approved).

You also have to remember that if you’re going to be drinking heavily, you may not want to bring a jacket if you’re likely to forget it somewhere. Although if it’s cold out, don’t go out with too few layers or you could end up drinking to feel warm, which is a very bad idea.


Conformity - "It's the one who is different that gets left out in the cold"

“It’s the one who is different that gets left out in the cold”

The night started a little late because I just finished up a hockey game, and I had to clean up and book it over to Ryan’s as fast as I could. I get there and Ryan’s buddies, Shawn and Jordan were already there and ready to roll. So we get to Campbell and Katie Bloom’s is not only packed, the crowd in line looks…hmm, how can I put this delicately…ghetto as fuck.

At this point in life, Ryan is hung up on some girl, Jordan is married, I’ve sworn off dating, and Shawn is not sure if he wants to be meet new people — sounds like the Island of Misfit Toys, doesn’t it? But we choose to go to Campbell because the girl Ryan got a phone number from was at another bar in the area, and you know…what’s the worst that could happen?

So we head over to Sonoma Chicken Coop because they have an awesome microbrew and we won’t run into that girl and her friends, at least not before getting a few drinks in us. After a few pints, it’s time see what the hubbub is all about, and meet this girl at the bar with her friends. We get there, and it…is…packed. Ryan tells her what part of the bar we’re residing, and eventually, she tracks us down. I must admit, not bad. Last time I saw I had a few drinks in me, so I didn’t have the most accurate memory of her. Oh, and one of her friends, one I previously hit on, was there too…hooray.

They decide they want to go to the douchiest bar in Campbell because their friend (it’s the friend’s birthday) wants to go there…double-hooray. The place is just as douchy as I remember. And of course they have to pat us down, because people have been stabbed there before –did I mention how happy I was to be there? At this point, I decide to water out because the last time I was with some of these guys after a workout, I got drunk really fast and blacked out. Combine that with me swearing off dating, and I’m not much use to anyone here.

However, one of the cool things is that Shawn, is uncharacteristically social. He starts talking to and dancing with the girl who turned me down about a month before, go Shawny! Lord knows that I don’t want to talk to her again; I faced personal humiliation with her once, I don’t want to do that again.

While this is happening, Ryan is in the middle of a dance floor make-out sesh with his girl, and Jordan is (reluctantly) dancing with some random chick. I say “reluctantly” because he’s married and definitely doesn’t want to do anything he may regret. I’m just off to the side, taking this all in, because no one loves me.

The club calls last call and the place starts to thin out. The random Jordan was dancing with asks him for his number, but he politely turns her down and point to his ring, which was a much better outcome than the last time.

Outside of the club, Shawn seems very outgoing and this girl seems to be a little hesitant. He asks her for her number, but I think somehow she doesn’t directly give it to him, but says to get it from her friend. That ended up not panning out so well because, in all actuality, she’s not Shawn’s type. Also things are still jiving with Ryan and his girl.

After a failed attempt to get food at a local taqueria and a good night’s sleep, Ryan, Shawn, and I break everything down over Facebook chat. Ryan and Shawn were both drunk so they don’t know whether to pursue these women or not. I was sober and tried to convince them to because, well, what’s the worst that could happen? Worst-case scenario, you go out with them a few times, things don’t work out, you never talk to them again — the usual for us.


Rule #6: Turn Me Down Once, Shame On You. Turn Me Down Twice, Shame On Me

…and this is why I don’t feel shame. As guys, we have to try, but we don’t always get the girl. Oh well, it’s not the end of the world. Although, sometimes, we have a second chance to try again. Maybe situations are better, or maybe just the lighting is better.

This is when we have make a choice: do I want to try again with this girl with these favorable conditions, or do I think it is not worth the effort?

I used to think we should try again, try to make it work. But that was a while ago. You can call it foolish pride, or whatever you want, but lately, I’ve adopted the thought process that if she didn’t want me back then, I don’t want her now.

A Family Affair

Ryan and I are in Campbell and we start out at Katie Bloom’s, as usual. KB’s in the Fall of 2012 is pretty stale and boring, so we aren’t there long. We end up at Khartoum and it’s pretty packed. We somehow make it through the crowd get our drinks and start to scope the area.

The problem is that I was dating a girl at this time, and I liked her. A lot. So I wasn’t really looking for women for myself, but as a good wingman, I’m still around to help my bro.

Since this place is a lounge, we find a place to sit and it happens to be near this group of two women and one guy. We make conversation, then one of the women wants to go outside to smoke. Since Ryan is in play, he goes outside with her, while I’m stuck inside. Turns out that the one smoking outside is in her 40s, the guy inside is her brother (and a total douche by the way), and he’s dating (or more likely) just nailing the other woman. I think the two women are roommates.

As Ryan is outside with the 40-year-old for a while, I have to make small-talk with the brother. He’s offering to hook me up with one of the women around us. Though it seems like there are A LOT of women in the bar this night. It doesn’t really matter to me since I’m crazy over another girl. But I indulge him and say okay, that girl. He tries to get her attention without even leaving his seat. Really? …we got a real winner here. I’m just thinking, “Thanks, but no thanks bro.” Seriously, I don’t think I have much game, but I could do better without his “help.”

For what seemed like an eternity later, Ryan and the 40-year-old come back. We leave. Ryan doesn’t get her number because she said her brother would stab him…I believe it.

That night I wasn’t interested in talking to new women, but I definitely didn’t want to be stuck talking to some seemingly unstable d-bag, waiting — with an empty beer, looking around, uncomfortably — for my friend to come back.

This was when I realized something about my bro-lationship with Ryan. It just doesn’t work as well when one of us is already interested in another girl. We’re either holding back, or trying to push the other more to compensate. I still don’t know if there’s a way around it, but for now, I’ll document these crazy nights instead of living them for a while.


Rule #5: The Guy Best Friend Rule (aka The Lesson of Schneider)

I joke a lot about my idiocy, but I have a good head on my shoulders and can make wise decisions when I should (more often than not). During my college years, three of my best friends were women. The important part of that equation was that I didn’t sleep with or date any of them. I know how to keep it in my pants. I later found out that not a lot of guys are like me.

A few years ago, my friend Schneider was interested in this girl named Megan. Another friend and I were along to wingman because she was hanging out with her best friend, who was a guy. The wingmanning went fine, but that’s not the reason for this story. Schneider was never able to get the girl. Why, you ask?

The guy-best friend was the reason why. He was always there. Always “just a friend.” Let’s fast-forward a few months later when I asked Schneider about what happened with him and Megan: nothing. Nothing happend. She got knocked up by, you guess it, the guy-best friend.

In retrospect, it was a good thing, at least for my friend. He dodged a major bullet with that chick. So this isn’t as much a rule as much of a cautionary tale: when a girl says her best friend is a guy, watch out.

The Pancakes Story

In my adventures with Ryan, my trust in women has started to decline…dramatically. My reason? Pancakes.

The story starts off normally, where we take a cab to Campbell and head to Katie Bloom’s. It’s been a while, so I don’t remember if we hop to other bars and came back, or just stay here all night; in all probability, it’s the former. But the night is about halfway through and we’re on the dance floor looking for women to dance with, to no avail. I leave to get the next round of drinks, and when I come back, Ryan is dancing with two women. I really don’t understand how these scenarios happen. One of us leaves the area to get drinks or go to the bathroom and the other is approached by women. I wish I could tell the Taqueria Incident, because that one was funny, but alas, I cannot.

Anyway, we pair off and we’re dancing with these two women for the rest of the night. It hits last call, and the club starts to close down as the four of us are outside discussing what to do next…oh, before I go any further into the story, the one I’m dancing with has a ring on her left ring finger. I’m still not sure if it is an engagement ring or otherwise, but I reserved judgement while also being very aware of a potential disaster. Let’s call this one Samantha, and the one Ryan was dancing with shall be named Marcy.

Samantha admits to be in her thirties, and Ryan, being the youngest of us four, claims to be her age as well. This isn’t really pertinent to the story, but it’s one of the dumb things we tend to say while drinking. Who am I kidding, we say stupid things when we’re sober, but I digress. Samantha and Marcy want to go get pancakes, so being the idiots that Ryan and I are, we say okay and walk to the restaurant, which is about a 30-minute walk.

While ordering and waiting for our food, (I forget if who brought it up, Ryan or myself) someone calls Samantha out for wearing a ring. She responds with, “I have a fella.” THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?!

…and we ask her that, though maybe not in that strong of a tone. She declines to explain if it meant she was engaged, married, or if it’s just something else.

After small-talk and sustenance, we leave the restaurant and part ways. Ryan then looks at me and asks, “Should we?” I say, “Yeah, why not.” The girls are about 30-40 feet away from us when Ryan shouts, “Hey Marcy, can I have your number?!”

Marcy calmly walks back and says okay, but that she has a boyfriend. Ryan and I are then confused as to why she still gives him her number. So I think, what’s the worst that could happen and shout, “Hey Samantha, can I have your number?!” She walks back as well and gives me her number, even though she has a “fella,” whatever that means.

Numbers are exchanged, goodbyes are said, they walk off, and we walk to Ryan’s place. Ryan thinks it would be faster to just walk back (which took about an hour and a half) instead of trying to find a cab, which is true, because we’re on a street where cabs don’t really drive by. So we start our hobbit’s journey back to Ryan place, confused and swearing, “Why did they give us their numbers?!”

After this incident, them giving us their numbers and doing what they did on the dance floor, I kind of feel bad for their fellas and lose trust in womankind.

There are technically 2 more parts to this story, but the second one is short enough that it’ll be combined with the Act 3 of our story later on.