Being Hit On/Drunkards

Jenny: So, have you ever been asked out in a suave manner?
Me: Nope.

Last night when the rogue writers group gathered at the coffee shop, the conversation at some point hit on being hit on. We did a round question, which revealed that none of the gals in question have ever encountered a "good" pick up line. It begs the question: is there any such thing? For my part, I'd say nope.

Think on that, then think on me working at a bar where random guys come to find girlies. Unlike said girlies, I do not go to the bar to be bought drinks or find random guys. I go there so I can make money to pay for stuff.

Granted, some of my coworkers aren't opposed to meeting random guys, and young Dave is currently dating a gal he met when she came in for drinks, so I'm not saying that it's impossible, or even unlikely that things could work out that way. I'm just saying - not with me. The last place I would be interested in meeting a guy is at a bar, especially the one where I work.

Anyhow, last night Jenny made the comment that I probably have some funny being hit on stories. I thought I would share some of my favorites. While not exactly verbatim, here are the jist of some incidents which exemplify my no-bar-guys policy.

Foosball guy (who I loathe): Hey, you single?
Me: Nope.
Foosball guy: You were last week.
Me: Actually, I haven't been single for a couple years now.
Foosball guy: Nuh uh.
Me: Yuh huh. I keep track, really.

Guy: You have a great name. Wanna marry me?
Me: No, I'm good.
Guy: Seriously. If I weren't already married, I'd marry you.
Me: Best of luck with that having a wife thing.
Guy: I mean it, if it doesn't work out with your boyfriend...
Me: Yeah, sure I'll give you a call.
Guy: Awesome. High five!
(Left me a shit tip, too)

This one needs a bit of preface. One night way back when I was still in the kitchen, i.e. done at nine, I clocked out and headed downstairs where trivia was going on. I figured I'd chat with Julia (who was bartending) and talk with Marianne about something. A while later...
Julia: Uh oh watch out.
Andy: (who comes right up to me) Hi, I'm Andy. What's your name?
Me: Ali.
Andy: You waiting for someone?
Me: (who answered too fast, and thus, truthfully) No.
Andy: Can I buy you a drink?
Me: No, I'm alright.
Now, fast forward five minutes later when he's still trying to chat me up even though I repeatedly give monosyllabic answers, focus on talking with Julia, and do my best to completely ignore him.
Andy: Blah blah blah.
Me: Look, I'm not here to meet people.
Andy: Blah, blah, blah.
Me: I'm just waiting to talk to my boss before I go home.
Andy: Blah, blah, blah.
Me: Seriously, just leave me alone.
At which point he finally leaves. Dumbass. He's now one of the foosball guys and one of the biggest reasons I love that Katherine's class is on foosball night.

This next one is the abbreviated version, I think said guy was trying to chat me up for maybe fifteen minutes all together.
Guy sitting right next to my work station: Working hard? (Or some similar annoying small talk)
Me: Yup. (I put something in the computer and walk away, so he waits until I come back)
Guy: You've been working here long?
Me: Yup. (Pick up drinks, drop them off, come back)
Guy: Hey, why don't you want to talk to me?
Me: I'm busy.
Guy: (Obviously frustrated) Well, I don't think you're very nice.
Me: Nope, I'm not.
Guy: (Finally shuts up, leaves shortly thereafter).

Now, technically these next ones aren't exactly me getting hit on. But, they're funny.

Metal guy: You know, you should totally listen to some metal.
Me: No, I'm okay.
Metal guy: Really. It'll like totally free your mind.
Me: I've listened to metal. I don't care for it.
Metal guy: Metal is awesome. You'd like it.
Me: Actually, my boyfriend likes it. Anytime I go somewhere with him, I'm forced to listen to it. I loathe metal. Honestly.
Metal guy: No, it's great. You'd like it, I promise.

Andy (same one as before, on a foosball night): Hey, can I get an Arrogant Bastard?
Me: The bartender stepped outside for a minute.
Andy: (waits a bit, looks at me again) Can you get me an Arrogant Bastard?
Me: Just wait a sec. the bartender will be right back.
Andy: I'll give you a dollar if you get me an Arrogant Bastard and bring it down to me.
Me: You'll have to wait for the bartender.
Note: By this point I've given up on all foosballers because they piss me off and never tip, so I found his offer to tip me, as if it's a big ol' favor, particularly hilarious. The [expletive] can keep his dollar. Probably has diseases on it anyway.

To preface this next one - this was last thing on a Wednesday night, as Dave was closing the place down and I was closing out my bank, etc. There are only three of us in the bar.
Bob(who's in his sixties, an old friend of Dave's and who's had a few by now): I haven't been laid in a long time.
Dave: Sorry to hear that.
Bob: (to me) Have you been laid lately?
Me: I'm not going to answer that.
Bob: Man, I need to get laid. When's the last time you got laid?
Me: I'm still not answering.
Dave: Hey, cut it out.
Bob. I mean it, when's the last time you got laid?
Dave: (to me) Don't answer that. (to Bob) That's totally inappropriate. Stop it.
Bob: I just wanna know the last time she got laid.
Dave: You need to stop it right now.
Bob: I'm just asking a question.