2007

Women have not been too kind to me lately, let's just say that. As I've grown older and more bitter, I've been less and less of the kind, caring gentleman that bitches want me to be. Instead, I've been an outright asshole through and through, saying anything mean or offensive I feel to a girl to get a laugh. I mean, New York City is so big that you could straight out offend someone to their face and most likely never see them again, right? So I thought. This story is just a little episode, a little example, to show you what most girls' treatment of me has been like in recent months.

A few days after I got back from Israel (a trip I will describe on here, somehow), me and my crew of flunkies were at The Beauty Bar, just drinking, doing what we do, when I decided to test the waters. While on that trip, I had recieved a pocket glow-light with the trip company's logo on it. So I walk up to this one girl who seems like the type that might be amused by my shenanigans. Tattoos all over the body, thin and manly, the hipster type. I go up to her nonchalantly, reach into my pocket and turn on the glow light, around the area of my crotch, and just say "Hey what's up?"

Her response: "Are you fucking kidding me? You can't be for real. Get the fuck outta my sight right now before I kick your ass."

OK fine. Whatever. I just walk to the back of the bar, chill out and pretend it never happened, and everything's all good from there. She's just one bitchy girl out of everyone here. Her daddy beat her a few times too many when she was a kid, and waitressing and stripping won't pay the bills, so she's taking it all out on me. Right? Wrong.

Because it turns out this girl in particular has power to do something about it. Little did I know, not only is this woman the DJ at this particular bar, but she is also the owner or manager or something, who has veto power over who stays and who goes. Just my luck, right?

So I'm at back of the bar, and she sics the dogs on me. Literally, she sends this large pitbull of a man to run to the back and chase me out of there, threatening violence. I don't think I have ever screamed louder, even when I got arrested (See "The Worst Nigh Ever"). "WHYYYY! I didn't do anything. I'M SORRRYYYYY!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, running out of the bar as fast as I could. And I did not stop running for about 5 blocks, worried this 6 ft 5, 300 pound defensive lineman was running after me. Luckily, he stopped after my "punk ass" left the bar.

My buddy "Panic", who was in the bathroom and heard my screams of agony as I was chased, talked to the woman afterwards and calmly interrogated why I was kicked out for such a silly gesture. She explained to Panic that I had been "cock-blasting" her, and she did not appreciate it, so she was merely doing everyone else in the bar, who God forbid had any sense of humor, a favor.

What the fuck is Cockblasting? Making up new terminology to describe my brand of harassment. Eh bitch? You got another thing coming for ya.

A few months after this incident, me and my crew were out drinking at a completely different bar, in a completely different area of the city, when my buddy C-town comes up to me, and he's like "Yo dude, the girl who kicked you out of Beauty Bar is here". Whatever, I thought he was lying. But when I go up to the bar to order my third or fourth drink, lo and behold, who comes up to serve it to me but Little Miss Cockblast.

OK, first of all, I thought she was the manager or owner of that bar, so WHY would she be working in a completely different area of the city, nevertheless BEHIND the bar? That's what I didn't understand.So I go up to the bar, she immediately recognizes me, and greets me warmly. "Are you fucking kidding me? Fuck you, what do you want?"

"I'll have a beer, woman, and be quick about it"

So a minute later, she comes back with my beer, along with something not included in the price. A large middle finger. I wonder, should I even bother to pay, or completely Reservoir this bitch (Watch the movie, get the reference). Unluckily, I put down the money for the beer, 6 dollars I very desperately want back. A beer is a beer anyway, I could go to any college or keg party anywhere in the country and get one for free.

But her tip was nowhere to be found. Before she could even get a sentence out ("WHA? FUCK? MOTHERFU..."). I quickly turned away and began to shove by way through the crowded bar, to get the hell away from that evil bitch. Only to feel something cold and hard slam into the back of my head.

This bitch just fucking beaned me with her 95 MPH fastball. Luckily though, the projectile was not an actual baseball (now THAT would be a story), but a large industrial-size ice cube. And it hurt like hell. Oh it's ON now. Thanks to you, bitch, I will now turn Cockblasting into a nationally recognized sport. Fuck that, I'll make it the new national pasttime.

Just goes to show, you never know when a bitch will come back around. And also goes to further show that for me, nothing ever goes fucking right.

Edit: The last time I came into the Beauty Bar, she was back there, and refused to serve me. I am currently banned from getting drinks at their establishment. And you know what, I Do Not Fucking Care