Making a Theory Into Law (and THONGS!!!)

This was on my old website. The actual event happened in 1995, if memory serves me correct.

Making a Theory into Law

I wouldn't even call it road-rash; I've had carpet-burns that looked worse than this. But let me qualify all of this by saying that I was hoping for much more. I started a new teaching job around two months ago, and part of the deal with starting a new job is that you have no time off for the first 90 days. For those of you in Canada who can't do the math, 90 days is three months and that means I have another 30 days, or another month, before I can take some time off. Anyone who knows me knows I am all about taking time off, coming to work late, leaving work early, working on the web page during work, and thinking about not being at work while I am in fact at work. I figured that breaking a major appendage while on a road-trip would be the perfect excuse for me to take some time off and get to relax. But I failed miserably.

But the weekend road-trip wasn't a total failure; I did prove a theory of mine. That's right; I turned a theory into law. It is now unbreakable, and punishable by courts. You may have gotten the impression that I do pretty well with the ladies. That is true for the most part, at least romantically, but ladies that I am not involved with romantically or sexually sometimes tend to find me as a bit harsh and abrasive, and I've often wondered why that is. My theory (now a law) doesn't explain why that is, only when it happens. Typically, my experiences with the fairer sex in non-physical capacities have all started well enough and then horribly careened out of control until one of us is left in tears or cussing the other out. I have found that this downhill process has to do with the number 4. It always occurs in the 4th hour, 4th day, 4th week, etc. For some reason this paranormal 4th hour has plagued me my entire adult life.

During my road-trip where I was intending to seriously injure myself, I was in a car with 3 other stand-up, honest, male individuals... and one female. Like my theory goes, all is well for the first 3 hours and 59 minutes, then it happens. We were talking about college football after seeing a game and I mentioned that I watched a particular game that they were discussing. I explained that I was just sitting at a bar, eating food and watching the game when a hottie contest broke out. I was a victim of hottie fever, what the hell was I supposed to do? I was a spectator at one of the most strategically sound coups ever. The hottie wasn't going to win until she played the "thong card". Just like an Olympic champion, the thong-girl knew what it would take to win; she dug deep and found the courage to do what had to be done. As the saying goes: the thong always wins.

Needless to say, the girl in the care with us became very upset with me. Why get upset with me? I wasn't wearing the thong! She pointed out that mentioning the word "thong" in context with a female was degrading to her gender. I said that guys in San Francisco wear thongs and I don't find it degrading (Check that, I find it utterly disgusting, but I didn't want to make things worse so I tried a little diplomacy to try and smooth the situation). I would think calling her "harpy" would be degrading; "thong" is just a word.

Then she said, "that shit isn't cool", and thought evil thoughts about me while staring at the back of my head. I've never seen a chick this upset, ever. She was livid. I'm just lucky that she was female and was probably incompetent with firearms (I found out later in life that some females are too competent with firearms, but that is another story).

Then she called me a "pig". She didn't call me a pig to my face, but she did call me a pig. I think the female population needs to take a long hard look inwards. First they wear the thong, and then they get upset at me because of it. Why the dichotomy? Where is the compassion? We should be celebrating the thong, not calling me a pig! The thong equals power. The thong-girl is going to get a lot farther in life than the nasty pig-calling girl. I think she feared the thong. Viva la thong!

Hot Bartenders -- A New Guy Rule

Last night was poker night again. The conversation steered towards bartenders. I am not talking about those dudes that listen to us blabber and keep our glasses full. Hell no!! That would be boring, and a little strange for a bunch of guys to be talking about. We started talking about those super Hottie bartenders that are so prevalent in the local drinking establishments all over the country. I am talking about the ladies that could work at Hooters during the day and then bartend at some club during the night. These babes are incredible.

Before I get to the meat and potatoes of this blog, let me ask the guys a question. Would you rather hire a bartender that can mix every known drink on the planet and do all those fancy schmancy bartending tricks that Tom Cruise did in "Cocktail" or would you rather hire the hot babe with the boob job and the perfect ass?? Come on… this shouldn't take too long. There you go!! Of course you would hire the Hottie. That is why "Coyote Ugly" is one of the best movies of all time!!

Anyway, the guys started talking about trying to pick up some of these hottie bartenders in the clubs around town. I couldn't believe my ears!! These guys are so naïve, I felt sorry for them (Most of them are at least 4 or 5 years younger, Shit, I feel like a wiseman)

After several of the guys had spent about 15 minutes rambling on about their failed attempts to pick up these goddesses of alcohol, I had to jump in. I informed them that it ain't going to happen. "How do I know?" was asked. Well, let me tell you.

When I lived in Austin, I was lucky enough to date a hot bartender and sometimes shot girl (No, we didn't meet in the bar). I dated her off and on for over a year. It was about the third week we were dating and I told her I was going to stop by the club she was working at. She sat me down and said "Don't get mad or jealous when you see me there."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. She proceeded to tell me all about her life as being a female bartender. She told me how she wears her tightest jean-shorts and a tight shirt that showed her ample bosom. She told me how she would flirt with the guys, listen to them, tell them they were cute, do shots with them, etc. She would come home with the phone numbers of 4 or 5 guys and crumple them up and toss them in the trash. Why did she do this? For the $$$. On a good Friday or Saturday night, she could make $300+ in tips. She guessed that she made close to $1000 a week in tips. Hell, that is more than I make and I have a master's degree!! (BTW: She went on to become a bartender at the Coyote Ugly in Austin. If you ever watched the Coyote Ugly search on CMT, she was on there. Still working there last I heard. If you go there, tell Cheryl that Eric says Hi from Iowa. She may laugh or slap you, so be careful)

You see, a bartender plays the male species just like a stripper does. They tell listen to us, they tell us we are hot and are good dancers, they drink with us, they laugh at our lame jokes, and always have a huge smile (If you ever actually get to look at their face).

So, the meat and potatoes of this blog is a new Man Rule. This rule will be official for all guys that go to bars and clubs with Hot as Hell bartenders. That rule is: Hot Chick Bartender is Not Going to Fuck You.

Seriously. I know this. Not only did I date a bartender, I also have tried to pick up numerous Hooter type bartenders. After 6 beers and a few Jack and Cokes, I'm drooling over the chica behind the bar, telling her for the hundreth time that I'm crazy about her and want to start a family with her or at the very least, bury my head between her legs for a good half hour. And when I stop to take a sip, or breathe, or sometimes vomit, there are six other guys who chime in with the same gameplan.

See, the bartender is the only woman in the bar who has to talk to us guys. At least, she has to acknowledge us. No one else has any such obligation. So the bartender hears it. And if she's ridiculously hot, like our friend in the photo above, she hears it non-stop, start of the shift right up to last call. Drunken idiots in our Old Navy shirts, thinking we can score the babe who's working the tap. Or that we're the first guy in the world who's told her that joke or complimented her on her ridiculously tight, round ass. Or that we're the only dude she's ever shown that tattoo.

But in the end, it's always the same. Her Levi's get stuffed with tips. I walk out with nothin' but a headache. And a raging hard-on. And it's go home, puke, take the intravenous Vitamin C, H2O and aspirin exlixir, then come back again tomorrow because I'm sure she'll eventually cave. We men never learn!!!

Toolbelt Diva -- What's the Big Deal?? (And, A Theory is Born)

So I finally saw that show all the guys have been talking about: Toolbelt Diva (Or something like that). Alot of my friends have been watching that show religiously. It is a great buy show. Put together tools and a hottie, and you are onto something. Look at "Home Improvement". Be honest guys, the reason we watched it was because we could relate to Tim being a bumbling fool when it came to handy work, and Pamela Anderson was in it. Take away one of those two aspects, and the show is dead.
A couple of my friends swear this toolbelt diva girl is "A guys dream come true, a hot chick that is good with tools (And I aint talking about personal tools!!!) I even have a friend that is going to Milwaukee this week and he found out she is going to be at some construction/building show in Madison. He is actually making a special trip over to go to that show and see her. His goal is to get a signed picture of her, and a foto of him and her together. What the Hell!!! He is obssessed!!

Anyway, I finally watched it and I have to say, I am not all that impressed. Sorry, but that girl just doesnt do it for me. She is alright, but not a grade A hottie. Now if it was Shakira, Angelina Jolie, or any number of other hotties hosting the show, I would be loving it.

I can't understand the hype and obssession with this girl. I have a theory (Yes, another one of my theories. Trust me, I will have hundreds more) I think that guys are going crazy for this girl just because she is an OK looking woman that likes tools. Put this girl on a sitcom or on an animal channel show, and guys wont even notice her. She would be just another average looking woman on a show. There are some things that add to the hotness points of a girl. A Thong (See one of my previous blogs, lesbianism or being bi, a girl that loves sports, a girl that doesnt care if you are a lazy bum, and a girl that likes the hardware store, etc. These automatically notch a girl up one or two spaces. A 5 turns into a 6 or 7, an 8 turns into a goddess. That is my theory. I think most guys and girls will agree on that one. Let the debating begin.