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The turn down


It was a night of bar hopping. I had a few fuzzy navels in me and a little liquid courage. I had been trying to get the courage to ask this girl out all night, I will name her Becky. My attempt at being macho had backfired. She knew who I was and I knew I wasn't fooling anyone. I could have used a better pick up line. There was a guy she liked who wasn't wearing five pleated le Chateau pants and a short, collared Alexander Julian button down shirt. No, he was rugged and void of anything that could called style. He was a white tee shirt and jeans grease ball. 

"Hey Becky! Why don't you get rid of Tony Danza, so we make some music together!" This was not my best pick up line. I was never good at pick up lines. To be totally truthful I have always been intimidated by pretty people. It didn’t matter if they were male or female. In my mind I was an average guy with an above average phobia of pretty people. Tony Danza was not real Tony Danza; he just looked like him. And I am not ashamed to say he was a hottie too. Becky wasn't buying my attempt and looked at me like I had a third eye. 

Well, there I was feeling rejected, sitting at the bar. I never smoke but I bummed a cigarette from a lady who was sitting beside me. I must have been striking some kind of pose. A girl came up to me and asked if I was gay. My attire and my lingering Halston cologne had caught her attention. I was taken back and I said "No" she turned around and I took a long drag and coughed. "Gay, she thinks I'm gay!!!" I said to the lady beside me. She didn't say a word. She didn't have too.


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