It's been a while since I've posted a good story for you about a night of bad choices and debauchery and after all this blog is called Des Moines and the Single Girl, so friends I've got a good Single Girl story for you.
I started the night off with the best of intentions. I was just going to work on a little art project I'd planned, have a pizza, drink some wine and call it a night. I should not be allowed to drink wine alone; it always leads to wanting to go out. However on this particular Saturday all my friends had prior engagements so that got me thinking, tonight's the night I'm going to go to the bar solo! I did, it wasn't so bad and I will write up a full report on it at a later date. This post is dedicated solely to my poor decision making skills. So while having my martini I decided to see if any friends were downtown. Didn't hear anything so I grabbed a coffee and headed home. Get home, text from my friend saying he was downtown, and another from my old roomie saying she was downtown. Stuff my face with as much of the giant rice crispy treat I bought with my coffee as I can and head back out to Hessen Haus. (Amaaazzzzing German beer hall. If you're in Des Moines you HAVE to go there.) This is how the night started going downhill:
(Image via google)
Two of these bad boys + 4 girls = drunk bad choices. It was seriously everyone's birthday in Des Moines or everyone's last night of freedom (aka bachelor/bachelorette party). Enter the paramedic from Nebraska. I can't remember why he came up and talked to us, although I'm pretty sure he threw out a terrible pick up line and my drunken self laughed in his face about it and then he went back to the bachelor party. His feelings must not have been too hurt cause he came back and I gave him my number (bad choice #1) and then they headed off to another bar and I kissed him (bad choice #2). We met up at another bar, and the list of bad choices goes on, I won't bore you with the details. Although please note the ultimate bad choice did not happen. More like a scratch on the bedpost as opposed to a notch.
Now we're up to why bars have low lighting. Being alone at the bar allowed me to observe more closely the dynamics of a bar. I started dating D when I was 20 so I never really got to experience the single bar scene in college. It is however the perfect setting for random hook ups. The low lighting + alcohol = everyone's a hottie and you are the king/queen of the dance floor. And by dance I mean Shakira inspired seduction moves. Or the reenactment of a dying trout on land. Add to that mix the inability to hear due to bass so heavy the entire bar is turned into a vibrator, and you've got a total hottie (low lighting) who you seduced with your dance skills (alcohol) who is now whispering sweet nothings in your ear (cannot hear due to loud music; actually generic awful pickup lines). I'd like to tell you since I've got it all figured out I'm immune to it. Sadly even the toughest of us fall victim to it. However, I'm also one to laugh about it the next day and share it with the blogging world, while eating the rest of my gigantic rice crispy treat. Guys, girls, please tell me I'm not alone in this and that everyone makes these unfortunate (although hilarious in hindsight) bad choices once or twice in their lives. I'm saying once or twice just in case this happens again....wait.....this time actually is the twice. I forgot about the guy from AK's. Shit. I give up. At least I have cats right?