It's as if not being partnered is equivalent to having a rare incurable disease that gives us a pass on certain things. "Oh, you have cancer? Then I'm sorry, I should have known my child was playing in the street when you ran him down in your Buick, entirely my fault, carry on."
Why, women? Why encourage these guys?
Okay, I exaggerate...a little...but one of the perks of being a bachelor is also being able to take on multiple personalities while out at the bars and clubs. To date, in my years as a bachelor, I have been an English writer, a German, an Irishman, a pilot, a vetrinarian, a the lead singer of an up and coming rock n roll band. It's fun to be different people sometimes. It's harmless fun, given that I've been with, apparently, an airline stewardess, a lawyer, a doctor, a dance instructor and a helicopter pilot. I have no idea if these women were actually any of these things, and really, I don't care.
On Wednesday, I met some friends at a bar in downtown Denver. I was a little cash-strapped and was astounded when my buddy called me to tell me that there was a ten-dollar cover to get into the bar. Undaunted, I boarded the free shuttle on the 16th Street Mall and rode the six blocks up to the Irish bar. I was already a few Irish whiskey shots into my night and so, emboldened by liquid courage, I approached the doorman and confidently told him I had arrived.
As expected, he looked at me with a blank expression and simply said, "Cover is ten dollars, please." To which I responded, looking harried and tipsy, "I'm scheduled to sing 'Danny Boy' at 10 pm, do I still have to pay?" The blank look changed to confusion. Before he could say anything I continued, "I've been hitting bars all night singing the song, once every hour, I'm on a tight schedule." I waited, wondering if he'd call me on my fib, as a line of drunky patrons lined up behind me. I was prepared, though, to sing if I had to. After a few seconds that felt more like an hour, he waved me through, leaning into the cashier and yelling, "He's with the band".
I walked in confidently, ten dollars saved, ready to get my drink on. It was a good night. This isn't the first time I've avoided lines and covers by being a "performer" or with the band, or stage crew or roadie. I once got into a concert at the Fillmore in Denver by pretending to be a stagehand. I walked up early to the equipment truck, approached one of the techs and told him I was one of the temps assigned to help out with loading and unloading. Knowing that bands often hire local hands to help with that kind of work paid off for me and I got to see a great show, hang with the bands and I drank free all night.
A lot of it is in how you carry yourself. There is some truth to the adage that if you do something confidently, as if you know what you're doing, people will often leave you alone. Of course you have to be ready to back up your words if necessary. I worked hard during the Fillmore concert, moving speakers and unloading seemingly tons of equipment. And on Wednesday, I was more than ready to sing "Danny Boy" if called to do so.
For some bachelors, this kind of personality adopting behavior becomes ingrained, it becomes who they are. In some cases, they actually begin to take on the personality traits of the kind of person they want to be. Some become bad boys, gruff and ornery. Others become mysterious, even others become the life of the party. In some ways these might be mere extensions of their true personalities, just taken to an extreme when cruising the bars.
I'm okay with this. I mean, who am I to judge, right? But there is one personality type that really bugs me, and not just because I can't really pull it off. No, it bothers me because it's so...pretentious, so smarmy, so, well, annoying.
I'm talking about senstive pony tail guitar playing dude. First, I can't pull off a pony tail. Second, I'm not all that sensitive. Third, I can't play guitar. Strike three, I'm out. Not that I wouldn't grow my hair long and put it in a pony tail if I could. I just can't. I've always wanted long, rock n roll hair, but my hair doesn't grow that way. It grows up and out, like an afro. It's wavy and unmanageable when it gets long and it's annoying. And while I've always wanted to learn how to play guitar, it's just never happened, despite the five guitar-lesson apps on my iPhone and the three books on learning to play guitar gathering dust on my bookshelves.
I also don't quote poetry. I've tried, it just doesn't work. I know my Shakespeare, I'm a well read individual, I just don't really know poetry. I never got into it, and outside of a few Dr. Suess poems and half of one Robert Frost poem, along with the Walt Whitman verses I picked up from a few recent commerials, I'm pretty poetry ignorant.
I can't tell you why that particular kind of bachelor bothers me so much. I think perhaps because it seems unnatural to me. These guys are usually really skinny, which irks me to begin with, they're often cultural snobs, "I don't watch TV, it's the downfall of our society..." Really? Terrorism, Aids, murder, greed, those all take a backseat to television? Whatever you say, idiot.
They just don't seem like, men, to me. They're usually more effeminate than many women, they eschew many of the things I really enjoy and most of them adore soccer. In other words, the're Colin Ferrell or Val Kilmer, but without the acting ability or bank account. In blunter terms, they're douches.
Here are the bachelor types I look up to: Sean Connery, John Wayne, Carey Grant. These were men. They could be sensitive when they had to be, but also tough as nails when called upon. They were complex and vulnerable while never giving up their manly side.
I'm not bagging on guys that play guitar. I wish I could. And pony tail guys aren't awful, although I do get a little hair envy now and then. I'm not even hammering guys that can quote poetry, it's even cool when used correctly, like during a toast or at funerals.
It's just when you combine all those ingredients together you get a guy I'd like to pummell while wearing one of their oh-so-clever tshirts that say something like "Kill Your TV" or "My Other Girlfriend is Scully". And yes, I know this is classic behavior of a person lashing out because they're threatened. Am I threatened by pony tail douche, err...dude? Maybe. They're the embodiment of everything I'm not, really. So, maybe out of confusion or fear, I dislike them. I suppose it's safe to say that I shouldn't be among the first to greet the aliens when they make first contact.
I'd like to think I'd be calm enough and reasonable enough to greet them with open arms and put my fear and confusion behind me. Of course, as a bachelor, I'd be hoping that they'd be beautiful alien women with long legs and jet black hair. Kirk-worthy alien women with high libido's.
With my luck they'll all be dudes, sporting pony tails with guitars strapped to their back, spouting alien poetry. Just my luck.
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