Last summer when I moved here, I was broke. Like oh-my-god-not-Ramen-again-for-dinner broke. This city ain’t cheap, and it took every penny I had, a friend letting me crash for 2 months, and a small interest-free loan from my family to make moving here a reality for me. Point is, I didn’t get to do a whole lot last summer. It was like being in a candy store where everything’s a dollar… and I had a nickel. Anyhoo, all I’m saying is, I’m going to have a hellafun summer this year, now that I have paychecks and whatnot.
As yesterday was one of the first truly warm and wonderfully sunny days of spring, I met one of my girlfriends down at the waterfront (she works at a restaurant down there) for happy hour, Tony & Joe’s style. Can I just say that it was the first time I’ve been anywhere in DC and been truly impressed by the eye candy? It was like being on sensory overload… cute twentyandthirtysomethings every which way. Since I was running on about 2 hours of sleep (closed my own bar Tuesday night, including drinky-drink afterhours) and hadn’t planned on going anywhere after work, of course I looked like hell… but I will be back, and I will look AMAZING. Now if I could only work out how to get these cuties away from their little office cliques, I’d be in business. I’ve been absolutely boy crazy lately; must be the spring air. Yay mating season!
Although I have met a few guys while bartending, I think it would be easier during happy hour, when I’m in my normal 9-5 work clothes. I say this because I’ve noticed something lately; professional guys who come into the bar don’t really see me. They might notice whether I’m attractive (to them) or not, but it seems as though they overlook me as a potential girl to meet because I’m “just a bartender.” When I think a guy is cute, I literally have to go out of my way to mention how that’s just my second job, and I actually have a normal, “respectable” office job downtown. Then and only then do they look at me in a different light, and generally ask for my number. I guess I shouldn’t blame them for wanting a “normal,” educated woman with a decent job, but the realization has sort of taken me aback a bit. In college, being a bartender made me pretty much the hottest shit on the block, to every guy, everywhere. I suppose I’m just getting old… how old can a woman be a bartender before it gets a little sad? I would propose that it’s extended if it’s as a supplementary income, but still… there is definitely an expiration date.
Here’s to hoping I can quit before mine’s up…
