Bachelor # 2.5- The Hot Guy at the Bar

The hot guy at the bar never made it to full bachelorhood, so he doesn't get an actual number. This story is rather brief, but one that many women know all too well.

I was at my favorite local dive bar with one of my best friends the night after I went out with Old Face. We were sitting at the bar when a really hot guy and his less attractive group of friends walked in. I honestly never anticipated talking to him, but my friend is an incredible wingwoman. We started talking to Hot Guy and his friends about music since one of my favorite local bands was getting ready to perform. Hot Guy worked in music (allegedly) and seemed to be really interesting. Did I mention he was hot? He was also 36- which normally I would say is past my cutoff point for age, but I was willing to let it slide.

I left to use the ladies room and when I came back my friend whispered to me that he asked her if I was single, and she told him I was. Score beans! So he came back over and sat next to me and we started talking some more. We talked quite a bit to be honest.

Well this fool proceeded to go through this big theatrical performance of asking for my phone number and telling me that he wanted to take me out on a date and saying he thought I was really cute. Double score beans! So I gave him my number and he gave me his. This is where the red flag came up- before he and his friends left he said "Call me because I really want to take you out." To which I said "No- you call me. If you want to take me out you need to call me." He asked "Oh are you the old fashioned type?" and I said "Yes. And you better do it soon because I am going to Europe in 2 weeks and I might not come back." And he just smiled and laughed.

Well Hot Guy never called. He texted a few times asking "hey what's going on" and that usual bull shit that men pull, but he never called to ask me out like he said he wanted to. He was probably too much of a little bitch. Why would you waste your breath and my time asking for my number, telling me you want to take me out, and then not do so? That just made him look really lame and if I ever see him at my local dive bar again I will not be afraid to tell him so.

Maybe God was trying to throw me another bone with a little self esteem booster since Old Face had been such a flop the night before. Dear God- please don't throw me bones at my local dive bar.