The Time A Man Child Ruined My Favorite Taco Place

Ok. Everyone needs to mentally prepare themselves for this one. I was out being basic, eating tacos and drinking margs last night for #NationalTequilaDay and I was inspired to write about this government-level-of-importance topic. I was going to save this topic for a later date, but you can’t stop inspiration. *deep*

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MEN: Let me, your newly appointed teacher, teach you some NOT OKAY ways that you stupid beings hit on women.

I know you think you are so0o0o0 slick with the ways that you are attempting to pick up women- don’t deny it. Shit, maybe it works out for you sometimes. However, the majority of the time, you can’t comprehend in your little idiot meathead brain the clear signs that a woman is NOT INTERESTED.

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I was sitting at the most orgasmic taco place in all of Charlotte (Baskerfield, duh) with one of my friends at the bar. I was enjoying my skillet queso (yum) and my “Bakersfield Margarita” (double yum) and these two guys that were sitting next to us realize that they know my friend and proceed to say hey and blah blah bullshit.

We get to talking to these guys because they now won’t leave us alone. They are actually pretty cool: telling us about their dogs, telling us what they do for work, what area they live and so on.

Then, out of the depths of nowhereville, this one man’s d-bag switch turns on at the speed of diarrhea after Taco Bell (worth it, though AMIRITE!?).

He ‘Chris Brown’ hits me with the “I’m sure your hair looks good other days but its looking a little rough today”.  *SWOON*

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I’M SORRY WHAT!? TAKE ME RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW! I mean all I heard was “You have great hair”. Right?

WRONG.

What the actual eff is wrong with you? Was that supposed to make me laugh? Are you trying to charm me with your jokes, Mr. Aziz An-sorry.

Damn, I don’t even remember his real name because I got drier than my lips in the Carolina summer heat. #WifeMeUp.

A couple agonizing moments go by (I’m being slightly dramatic but still pretty accurate) and the topic of how my friend and I got mugged on the street the week before comes up.

I know, I’ll tell you later.

In pure Spencer Pratt fashion, he starts to joke about how he runs a ring of men that go around Charlotte mugging girls for their cash and stealing babies. He states “Oh yeah, that was my guy. Did he get what he was supposed to?”.

Psycho-Britney-Spears-circa-2007 acting imbecile says what?

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THAT IS NO JOKE! To you, at least. My friend and I are allowed to make jokes about it whenever we want. But did you stop to think Maybe I should ask them if they are okay.

No? Didn’t think so. That freakishly too tight “muscle” tee is cutting of the circulation to your brain.

But wait! There’s more.

Throughout the entirety of my meal, I periodically am using my phone, like a normal human being. This man child repeatedly makes comments similar to “Wow. Briana is really into her phone over there *giggle*” or “If only Briana would get off her phone and talk with us *slapping own face*”.

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I’m sorry man I just met 30 minutes ago. I wasn’t aware that texting my big from college (shoutout to Big Poppa) and my brother was upsetting you. I’m sorry that you require my full undivided attention while I watch you double fist your fish taco and tequila shot and talk about how you really need to buy a second house.

GET OVER YOURSELF!

I don’t like fish, I throw up when I take straight shots and I can’t even afford a first house. Also, I’m still a little bitter about the hair comment.

However, I digress. He came up from his self-dug grave slightly when he said I had a nice smile, which he probably hadn’t seen for a good 10 minutes at this point. And I’m sure there were chicken taco pieces stuck in my front teeth.

Did I do that on purpose? Probably. You’ll never know.

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But, alas, dear children. F***boy Master re-entered my Dojo of Displeasure with great finesse.

He had realized that my birthday was coming up in the next week and he asked me what I was going to be doing for it. I reluctantly told him that a group of us were going out to dinner to celebrate the Saturday before my holiday.

This sad, sad little man INVITES HIMSELF TO THE DINNER.

Pause for me to get my pimp hand strong.

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First, I try to pull the whole “tell him the wrong place and time so he never finds us” trick, but my attempted rage-masking giggles gave that one away. So, I end up having to tell him where and when we will be feasting in my honor.

Dammit.

Our meal is over and it is way past my bedtime of “get me the eff out of this situation” so my friend and I get up to leave. He repeats the information of the upcoming festivities to me and says “I want a formal invitation via text, Briana”.

I respond with “You just got your invitation out of my mouth” and Usain Bolt-ed on out of there.

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Sorry, broseph. But you are NOT getting my digits.

Now, as a woman, I would think that my signals were very clear to this man that you are unwanted at this dinner. As said man, he only saw boobs, butt and apparently shitty hair.

Stay tuned to see if he shows up for said dinner, as it hasn’t happened yet.

90% of me is hoping I never see him again. The other 10% really wants blog content.

Now, do not get me wrong. You hooligans are probably thinking I was being a huge beotch to this guy. I wasn’t. I was being super nice to Señor Estupido and I did actually enjoy myself, for the most part.

Granted, once I left, all these thoughts flooded my brain like wine on a Sunday morning at Church.

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These guys were pretty funny and would be super cool dudes to hang out with if they weren’t trying to hit on you. Like I’ll friend zone you all dayum day, boi.

Please stop making yourself less and less appealing by saying dumb things.

There will be more blogs on the dumb pick-ups men try to finagle out of their assholes, because I can already think of 5 right off the bat. But, my pretty litty kittys, you’ll just have to wait for that one.

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Leave me the stories about how guys have tried (and probably failed) to pick you up in the comments so that I can write about them and my similar experiences.

More importantly, tell me what a man has done that has actually worked in the attempt of picking you up so I can EDUCATE these male lifeforms on the proper ways to pick up females.

And please pray for my dog. Ain’t nothing wrong with him, he’s just a bitch.

Love and cheese,

A Millennial’s Monologue

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