April 26, 2003 @ 1:59 a.m.
An evening out

One has recovered from one's bad mood of earlier this evening. One has actually quite enjoyed oneself, apart from all the bogans one was surrounded by on the train journey home.

I ended up getting Sonya all to myself, which was wonderful as we hadn't seen each other for ages. Went and grabbed a couple of drinks at a bar in the city, so I got my smoky bar fix after all. Talked for hours, about everything. Got hit on repeatedly by band of drunken morons, led by a particularly irritating moron. And for all my gentleman readers, I have this to share: "Do you girls know who's winning the footy?" is NOT a good pickup line. Really. Nor is responding to the frosty "No." you recieve with, "Right! How 'bout the...uh...netball then?" Nor is plonking yourself down uninvited at tables and demanding personal information of the young ladies sitting there.

I blame Sonya for being such a spunkrat. She's easily one of the most beautiful girls I know. And it's not that nasty, intimidating beauty either. It's more the kind that mere mortals like myself can sidle up to and bask in.

It's fair enough to hit on people if you want to. However, once they have made their lack of interest clear, you should back the fuck off. Wearing people down through your irritating ways as a score tactic works less often than you may have been led to believe.

It had me pondering, though. Sonya and I were not, I think, looking particularly as though we were out to pick up. You know, there was a conspicious lack of things people generally take to mean you're on the prowl: we were both dressed very casually, my puppies were restrained, we weren't checking out the fauna while flipping our hair. The only eye contact being made was with each other.

But I've noticed something when I've been out with other girls in recent times. That is, that it seems to be a truth universally acknowledged by certain members of the male population, that single girls in possession of ID cards must be in want of a good deep dicking.

Maybe it's just that I don't out get enough, but I think I've been harassed on the street and hit on while out and about in the last couple of months, than previously in the last couple of years. I'm not having a sob session here, although I have to say I don't really appreciate it. It's just curious to me. I kind of feel that if I were to go out looking for this company, I wouldn't be able to find it (at least not in a form that I would find palatable), but since I'm not, it's everywhere. Not actually in forms I find palatable, albeit, nor would they be any better if I was single and especially desperate.

Which wouldn't happen. It is to the endless amusement of most women I know, and the irritation of most men, that girls pretty much don't need to do a whole lot in order to get laid. Of course, the less flattering side of this coin is when you consider that some men will have sex with livestock and dead bodies. Which you know, I can sort of understand: an animal isn't going to turn around and tell you you're a pervert for wanting anal sex; a dead body isn't going to complain about your poor social skills and halitosis.

I'm overly tired and probably not making any real sense, here. I'm not trying to go anywhere with this. I've just always been fascinated by how people interact when the question of sex hangs palpably in the air. I am not any closer to figuring this out.

If anyone has the answers for me, feel free to contact me with them. Just don't ask me any fucking questions about sport.

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