I knew it was going to happen.
I knew someone would eventually would ask this question.
Now, I don’t normally do this, but I’m going to post the email sent to me by this sad and confused gentleman.
To The Bartender Knows
Okay. Why is it so hard to talk to girls at bars? Every time I try to approach a girl I feel like I’m being some weird stalker dude. And if I buy them drinks I feel like I’m being a desperate, weird, rapey stalker dude. What are the secrets to doing this? You’re a bartender. How do you do it? How do I talk to these girls without feeling like a total asshole?
Okay dude. Mr. NEEDSTOKNOW. Let me break down a couple facts about the fairer sex here in New York City.
Women do not need you at all. They don’t. They don’t need you. The fifties are over, brah. All a girl needs nowadays is a Rabbit, two hyper-sexual gay friends she can live vicariously through, and a good income job. Seriously. Add a cool group of uber-fun dance party girl nights and she’s set. It is 2011. And New York girls are way more manly then you are. They got game. They run the show. They’re choosing all the pockets, and sinking them in two runs. Face that fact first, bub. You ain’t shit.
Any girl over 25 has been BURNED badly by some kind of shitty dude. They have loved and lost. They’re precious hearts have been broken into a millions pieces and somehow home-girl has survived to live another day. So you just having a penis means that yes, you might do what that man before you did:
Fuck her shit up.
And nobody wants their shit fucked up.
So already their man-palette is all dirtied up before you even walk over. You must realize their initial rudeness is merely the left-overs of Previous-Dude-Wreckage. You must, in a matter of moments, somehow eradicate that dirtied man-palette and get the equation set back to zero. So the slate is clean. That is just the beginning. Now you have to somehow differentiate yourself from the Legion of other men skinnier, richer, and better-looking then you are.
Everybody DOES something in this town. And most men, because of their essential egotism, begin telling everyone around them what ‘they’ do. Women are especially bored by this. They don’t need to know who the fuck you are. That comes later. You need to ask THEM questions. Who cares what you do? It’s probably far less interesting then the 17 other more successful, attractive men that have hit on her that day, so shut the fuck up and ask the girl some questions. And don’t say shit like: “Do you like music?” or “What’s your favorite color?” (my sister swears that she has been asked these exactly questions in the first five minutes of dialogue). Don’t be retarded. Be genuine. Be yourself.
Wait. No. Stop.
Don’t be yourself. If you are yourself you’d have to tell them that you are writing to someone you don’t know about how to pick up chicks at bars. Don’t do that. Just keep the attention on them.
Here’s some rules you should live by. One girl at a bar means she’s waiting for someone. One girl at a bar with a book means she’ll talk to you if you’re literary, but she’s either getting over a break up or has serious emotional problems. Two girls at a bar should not be approached. They are chatting, catching up, and talking about guys their fucking. You have no place there. Three girls at the bar means party time. Approach, but make sure you know which one you want in advance. You can’t switch later (well, you can, but by the sound of it, you’re in division one of these athletics, so keep it simple). Just be careful from attacks by the others. They will make it difficult. This includes approaching women with their gay friends. This can be exceptionally brutal, especially if the gay friend is of the super-queen variety, and, essentially being a guy themselves, knows just what to say to her that will fuck your shit up.
Bars are made for people. That is the simple fact. People go out to get fucked up, to meet with friends, and to get laid (and sometimes all three). It’s just the way it is. Women go out to meet guys. They do. Face it. If you see a done up lady (hair, make-up, the works) she did that for you. Well, maybe not for you, specifically, but for someone like you who just might be A) not a sleazebag, B) funny and interesting, C) not going to fuck her shit up six months from now.
Just remember brother, we all want love in the end. I don’t care who you are. We are all just little hippies looking for the potion of love. Some of us may be like rescue animals who bite the strangers who try to pet us, but beyond all of our psychic scars, we want a hug. And a good lay.
So chill out, NEEDSTOKNOW. Just follow these easy steps and write back if any of this gets you to first base.
THIS IS WHY MEN ARE UNNECESSARY