GUY AT THE BAR AT THE SLS HOTEL

While sitting with some friends at the bar in the SLS Hotel this past weekend, the people watching nearly made my head explode. There were slutty women in tiny dresses, old dudes with young girls, guys with white pointy shoes, even Captain Awesome. The list goes on and on. But one man caught my eye. He was wearing a white scarf and had his shirt unbuttoned 2 too many buttons. He was casually leaning against the wall, “reading” a book that was on display next to him. I did not meet this man, but this is the conversation we had at the bar.

SLS: Would you mind terribly not talking to me?

ME: I didn’t even say anything yet.

SLS: Yea I know. But I can tell you want to talk to me. You look needy.

ME: Wow. I don’t know what to say. I didn’t think an insult from you would hurt so much. But apparently I crave your acceptance.

SLS: Alright alright. Don’t start crying. You can talk to me. Just don’t make it look like you’re talking to me. And don’t block the view. The ladies need a clear sightline so they can soak it all in.

ME: What ladies?

SLS: All the ladies. Let me guess. You don’t come here very often.

ME: Me? This is my local watering hole. I’m here all the time. 3 nights a week at least.

SLS: Really?

ME: No. I’m usually at home watching House Hunters or playing Rack-O about now.

SLS: You don’t have the style. You don’t have the money. You don’t have the abs. Let me guess – you drove here a compact car? Possibly American?

ME: Well…uhhh…yea. Ford Focus. But it’s only because my other car is in the shop.

SLS: And your other car is?

ME: A 1997 Toyota Rav4.

SLS: Barbie’s SUV.

ME: You know I think maybe I should have taken your advice and not started talking to you earlier. If you don’t mind I’m going to go sulk away in shame right now.

SLS: Look. This scene isn’t for everyone. Just try hanging out somewhere further east.

ME: I almost forgot. I came over here to give you something.

SLS: Look. I am flattered. But I don’t want your number. Not unless you’re about to get DD implants.

ME: Oh it’s not my number. The people over at my table over there – well, we all chipped in and bought you a few buttons.

SLS: Buttons?

ME: You know, for your shirt. We figured your buttons had fallen off, which is why we were being forced to look at your belly button. Oh and the book your “reading” – it’s upside down.