I cannot wait until winter break comes so I can stay up till 4 in the morning with no consequence. But the bummer of it is that I'm going to have to a get a seasonal job, seeing as my tutoring job goes for the break as well. I don't like sitting idle. Idle hands do the devil's work, as my grandmother said, and Jesus it's true.
Speaking of tutoring, I'm coming up with lesson plans for next week, if anyone has ideas for fun educational stuff for 3rd graders, shoot 'em my way. I hate going on the teaching sites to get ideas because they're all so classroom-oriented, and the problem I have with my kids is that they've been in school all day prior to the program so they're sick of it. And I always seem to get the best ideas from parents--well....parents that actually do something with their kids, not park 'em in front of the TV all day. If I ever pop out a kid (highly unlikely), TV is going to play a small role in that child's life. Movies and Discovery Channel all the way until he/she/it is a teenager then I'll have no say in the matter anyway.
Going back to the insistent Mexican from last night, I have a brief rant, it's long so if you don't like reading, skip it:
A guy comes up to me at the bar and hits on me, whatever, I don't care. Most of the time I'm with my boyfriend but we're not joined at the hip so the poor guy can't possibly know, he just wants to get laid--no shame there, we all do. I try to be diplomatic about it, I keep my cool, be nice, give the guy a little ego boost and maybe a free drink out of it before I let him know I have a boyfriend, the guy goes his way with his self-esteem intact, the hubby doesn't have to spend money on my drinks, I'm flattered that I got hit on, we all win.
This guy however, was trying to talk to me while my back was turned....sorry can't hear you, I'm deaf, I'm funny like that. So my boyfriend's niece (and because we're practically married, I call her my niece as well) told him "hey, she can't hear you, you have to talk to her face." Then the guy procedes to get right up in my chair, two inches away from my face while his friend is sitting right behind me. FIRST MISTAKE: I hate that, don't corner me, don't get in my fucking bubble, especially if I don't know you and especially if we're in a fucking bar in the fucking ghetto, I know what's up.
The guy points at my niece and asks me if I know her. I had no idea what was going on at the time, so all I saw was him pointing to the other side of the bar where all my friends were, I say "Yeah, I know all of 'em, and that's my niece. Second mistake: the guy says that I'm lying. Yes. I'm lying. Absolutely. No, dipshit, that is my fucking niece. Way to flirt with women.
The second thing that Jacob, as it turns out is the dipshit's name (I didn't know they named bowel movements these days), says to me is "so you can't hear huh?" Thank you captain obvious, actually my brain is programmed to tune out chlamydia-ridden gangster wannabes, that's why I can't hear you. But I like to diffuse situations, especially when alcohol is involved, so I'm playing nice because I know how these guys work and I can shut them down real fast.
He goes into the whole 'what's your name, how old are you....etc etc etc' line, standing two inches from my face while his wingman or whatever is still literally breathing down my neck. My favorite things that he said were:
"You read lips real good don't you?"
yep...been working at it for 21 years now
"I'm not trying to be mean or anything, sorry"
You're not, dumbass, you're just being very stupid.
Then comes an exchange that I've never seen a man have the balls to say to me, which truly proves this guy was born to an alcoholic crackhead, that's the only excuse for this stupidity:
Dipshit: "You don't have a boyfriend do you"
Me: as a matter of fact I do
D:"No you don't, where is he?"
I point him out, the hubby is right by the pool table.
D: "You're lying, that's not your boyfriend, you're lying"
ummm....yes it is...and if it's so hard to believe that anyone would sleep with me then why the fuck are you standing here?
D: "Why is a pretty girl like you with such an ugly puta?"
excuse me? That's a hell of a way to pick up a woman. I'm with my son-of-a-bitch boyfriend because he's a real man, not a dipshit that has to have a wingman at the bar and seriously thinks he can be pushy with women and get away with it because he thinks he's "hot". Fuck off, whore house miscarriage.
Shortly after he said that I pretty much shut it down and sent the guy his way, but not before he grabbed my hand and started telling me what 'soft skin I have'. Whatever.
The hubby knew what was up, but he lets me handle these things on my own unless I give him "the signal", so as soon as Dipshit walked away, hubby comes back over and gives me a kiss, just to make it obvious that I'm taken. THEN, whenever he walks away, I see him stop and come back and tell the wingman behind me "if you want to talk to her, you gotta look at her face, she's deaf"
Apparently the wingman was sitting behind me going "hey" over and over, maybe as a test to see if I'm really deaf or not, or to actually get my attention which is stupid in every way. Dipshit comes over and gets two inches away from the boyfriend's face and they talk for a minute and then I just hear my boy explode and say: "Yeah, that's my girl and I don't appreciate you fucking with her like that. If you want to talk to her, look at her face, and if she doesn't want to talk to you, then get out of her face.
(and I hate hate hate it when men ask another "is that your girl?" No motherfucker, I'm a girlfriend. I'm not his property, I'm his better half. Buuuuuut in this case I let it slide)
I really thought something was going to blow up because I know what happens iwhen everyone's been drinking and there's way too much testosterone in the air. But I also knew that if Dipshit took a punch, he was going to get hit back ten times harder because my boy may be scrawny, but he's got a mean punch and a bad temper along with a whole bunch of friends--most of which were there at the bar that night. And I think Dipshit realized that as well, because he grabbed his wingman, tossed off a 'fuck this faggot' halfassed insult and left. But not before the lady who owns the bar told them not to come back, ever.
So... moral of the rant:
I congratulate you if you came this far by the way. If you're going to hit on a girl at the bar, don't get in her space, don't tell her she's lying, back off when she tells you she has a man, don't think you're the baddest gunner in the room if you're not a regular--because you never know who really is. And for fuck's sake if you actually pull that shit, at least buy whatever woman you're hitting on a drink before you put her through your bullshit.
Normally I'm pretty confident in taking care of these things by myself but it's always nice to have the boy show that he's willing to defend me. It brings out the damsel in distress part that's hidden deep inside every girl out there.
He may be a pain in my ass but all in all he's my other half, my partner in crime, and the brawn to my brain.
