Quote:
Originally posted by robustpuppy
Yes.
In fact, it was one of those bars where they put a case of The Beast on the bar and let you sit there till it's done. Just an FYI, the pregnancy has taken a small toll on my looks -- those hormones can make one's skin a bit blotchy.
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I have trouble in the bar scene. I don't dig all the alpha male jockeying and I don't like (a) competing for someone I might not like after five seconds of conversation ("I'm Denise, and I'm a personal trainer and pekinese breeder"), and (b) having to fight off short guys in leather jackets or stumpy alpha male wanna bes.
Perhaps its a Philly thing, but the Guido level in bars I've been to is off the charts. I don't want to have to fend off greaseballs, but they seem to infect every bar terminally in these parts, along with their idiot cousin, the falling down drunk ex-frat guy from Villanova, offering the opening line, "Hey, d'ju go to Episcopal? Yeeew look like someone I knew who went there" (after which he stares at the woman's breasts for three seconds and the goes in for the kill - "Hey, wanna Michelob Ultra?"
