Sunday, August 15, 2010

THE RELOCATION CHRONICLES, CHAPTER SIX: TIE ONE ON

This post goes out by request.

A few days ago I got an email from N, one of my first friends in LA, who invited me to a 30th birthday party in Santa Monica. I LOVE N- she's a world traveller who speaks a multitude of foreign languages, is college-educated, classy and cultured, but also isn't afraid to act like a total three-year-old whenever we go out to dinner and order little kid milkshakes (sometimes they have Scotch in them, but whatever). None of her friends and family are of the typical LA variety, either- meaning I can actually hold a conversation with them where I can use words that contain more than two syllables. The first time I met N she told me that she loved to read and without even thinking I replied, "books?" Luckily, she laughed. Also, she loves Lost.


So I got to this party last night and was immediately introduced around as "the writer." Despite the fact that I don't get paid shit for keeping this blog, I do love it and it's nice to be recognized. Some money would be nice, though. Ha! I kid. Kind of.

I also finally met N's boyfriend, Mr. N. We work in the same industry, or at least we did- we're both currently dealing with the shitstorm that is the job-hunting process. He's a really nice guy, and we had a lot to talk about. The insane part was that N was actually really excited that I was monopolizing Mr. N for a solid ten minutes and that we got along so well. That's just how she is- she's one of those girls that's so fun and sweet and pretty that you kind of want to punch her in the face, but you don't because she's such a great friend, which makes you angry at yourself for contemplating violence in the first place. I love you, N! You're awesome.

Anyway.

So in the midst of my hanging out with all these cool-ass people last night, some douche came over and interrupted the conversation I was having with one of my friends. He was really weird-looking- he kind of resembled a giant prehistoric cicada.


I politely brushed him off, even when he creepily stared at me for the rest of the night. N tried to come to my rescue and kind of pretended to make out with me, but it was a wasted effort since I don't think he saw it. It was still hilarious, though.

No more than twenty minutes after I dodged that speeding bullet, another little troll came over to where I was unsuspectedly sitting on the couch with the rest of my group. He shook my friend W's hand and actually used this as his opener:

"Now that I know your name I feel more comfortable making eye contact rather than staring at your chest."


To W's credit, she looked like she wanted to stab him in the eye. Then he proceeded to inform her that he would "guess her ethnicity" and ran down every possible Asian culture he could think of. I have a ton of Asian girlfriends and they ALL hate this. I resisted the urge to laugh out loud because I just had to see how this would play out. The kicker- this tool was also Asian. Also, I was infuriated by the fact that he was wearing his tie inside out. I didn't know if that was a look he was going for, or what, but I was really biting my tongue.

At this point, W had politely excused herself, which left an empty spot next to me on the armchair. Everyone with me was excited by this because they knew I was going to be a total bitch. While this clown had been busy bombing out with W, N and the rest the group had been pleading with me to say something to this asshole about his stupid tie. I had to- my public demanded it.

Ass-Backwards shimmied over to a spot on the chair where our legs were touching and threw his arm over the back like we were dating or something. Excuse me, NO. "Do you know your tie is on inside out?" I asked him. He told me he did it on purpose, and that it was "a look." "Do you like it?" He asked. "Not really," I replied. "You should probably have put it on right. It's a nice tie, though." I couldn't be too nasty right away. N called out to me to blog the encounter right in front of him as he continued to make an ass of himself. Then he touched my leg. FUCK, NO. I moved over to the other side of the couch. "You look really pissed off. It's bringing me down."

"I'm about to bring something else down on your crotch. It's called my knee." Ass-Backwards still didn't vacate, so N called me over to her couch (YES! PLEASE!) and he moved on to his next victim in our circle. All of us watched in part horror, part awe, part hysterics as he moved on from one girl to the next. Finally, he left- maybe he got the hint; maybe his drink wore off. I don't know. What I do know is that I polled my girlfriends and we're all going to wear inside-out ties for Halloween.

In concurrence with this being too good a writing opportunity to pass up, I was actually requested to do a post about this idiot. This one is for you, N.


5 comments:

Rahul said...

These guys are giving Santa Monica a bad name. I can't live here anymore. On the other hand I wore my pants inside out today.

Maybe they're onto somthing. By something I mean 1992 and Kriss Kross.

That Ain't Kosher said...

God, I hope not. That would suck.

Sara said...

Wow, that guy sounds like a reeeaaaalllll catch. Or real embarassing to bring out in public. One or the other...

That Ain't Kosher said...

I gave him your number. Wait for his call.

Annabelle said...

It's true, Asian guys are the worst offenders with that "what are you" bullshit. They think they're being sweet when they ask, but I always reply flatly with, "Well that's not a very appropriate question now, is it?"

Santa Monica is nice though. I kind of (wait for it...) miss it. AHHHHHH.