Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Blown Off by All Single, Gay Men

Singles night is never really my cup of tea because - confession time - I have a boyfriend. Yes, one of the contributors to The Blow Off is not actually currently being blown off on dates... I'm digging in my past. But this story happened just last week.

Let me preface this story by saying I'm not so big on the bar scene anymore. I like to go out for drinks, I like to hang with my friends, but when the clock strikes 11 p.m., without fail, I'm left standing alone with my cocktail while one by one the boys head out in search of someone to go home with.

So you know my ears perked up when someone suggested drinks at Saddle Ranch. Not because I particularly like Saddle Ranch - it's OK in the "I'm from out of town, lets go to that place where Miranda ripped her blouse off on Sex in the City" sort of way, but it wouldn't typically be my first choice. Still, we had the requisite friends in from out of town and, for some reason, they all wanted to ride the bull. Plus, it's rare my gay, single friends want to spend the evening doing something other than hunting for men, so I was all over it.

Saddle Ranch is not where gay guys go to meet other gay guys. Saddle Ranch is where you go to watch men spend 15 seconds on the bull and girls spend 3 minutes up there if the bull operator likes their 36 DD's. Where the bull operator has the power to make boobs fly out of bras and guys look dumb in front of their girls. Where men go for a free jiggle show every 5 minutes -- where the drinks are over priced, but if you're a lady, it doesn't matter, because chances are, you aren't paying.

Four gay men visiting from Iowa strolled into Saddle Ranch about a minute and thirty seconds after we showed up. After hearing all about gays in West Hollywood, they got confused and headed for the Sunset Strip instead of the Santa Monica strip. If you're standing in a room with 250 straight people and four gay out of towners stroll up, this sort of magnetic pull takes over the room and you automatically find your way to the same bartender at the same time as Britney starts playing.

It didn't all happen right away. One of mine and one of theirs started chatting each other up pretty quickly, but the others held back, opting for group convo first. Then another of mine and another of theirs decided to give the bull a go, and a third of mine and one of theirs suddenly made a beeline for the bar. Which left me with a guy named Jeff - mid 30's, nice enough, but clearly looking for something I wasn't going to give. And so he took off -- with some girl from the south. They bonded. Something about their mutual love of that Carrie Underwood "I'm gonna key your car" song.

I stuck it out for a bit. One of my friends even came back long enough to say, "You must really hate these nights, don't you?" Why yes I do, thanks. In principle, I should be thrilled to play wing man, to get hit on every now and again. But as my friends get older, they don't seem to want wing men. They seem so concerned that another single gay is gonna swoop in and steal their thunder, they're half way home with their pants around their ankles before they even bother to get a first name. And so, I enjoyed the show from the sidelines for a few, and went on my merry way.

Just as I was heading out the door, the two who opted for the bull made it to the front of the line. My gay lasted 15 seconds, theirs lasted 20. The 250lbs girl behind them who was barely able to get on the bull in the first place made it three long jiggly, laugh fueled, cameras snapping away minutes.

Yeah - maybe a night at home with the boyfriend isn't so bad.

1 comment:

  1. Hilarious post! I love that single friends can end up ditching their friends more than those of us in relationships. Single people are the new people in relationships.

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