A fellow barfly has been missing in action recently. He hasn't been frequenting the few places we often spot him here in town. Maybe he moved? That's somewhat doubtful, as he mentioned awhile ago that he just bought a home. Unless he made that story up, of course. One of the last times we saw him, he was accompanied by a woman he claimed was his neighbor. She was an older lady, chain smoking with leathery skin and an appetite for all the rum and cokes that night. Their body language together suggested they were, in fact, just friends. And possibly neighbors.
The missing barfly - let's call him Greg - is indirectly friends with people in our social circle here. In fact, they all used to hang out back in the day before I came into the picture. I've had the endless artificial joy of hearing story after story of their early intoxicated, sometimes drug-fueled adventures - whether at bars, bonfires, music festivals and the like. Greg certainly was a party kind of guy. Maybe he still is.
My interaction with Greg has consisted of him mostly rubbing my shoulders. Not in a seductive way, but in that way some men are merely shoulder grabbers when speaking to another. An older friend of ours from Charlotte does just that. He'll greet you with a limp-wristed handshake and a Vulcan Nerve Pinch on your opposite shoulder. Greg will do this with two hands, usually when one of his sports teams is on television beating one of your teams. And maybe you'd like to say these shoulder rubs make you a little uncomfortable, but by the time he does these sort of things he is already three sheets to the wind. By that point, you just have to hope the bartender intervenes, because Greg can be a bit of a hothead when he's drunk.
Another thing Greg becomes when he's drunk is a patronizing asshole. Although, it should be clear he acts like this even when he is sober - it's just much more defined when he's had a few shots in him. This comes more into play because Greg is a ladies man, or desperately tries to be one. Every time we ran into him, he would either have a new lady by his side, or would be talking about a new one to some of the regulars. The best of the bunch is when a potential new lady is in the bar, and he is peddling his flirting A-game with her. It's just all sorts of awful listening to this drivel. On more than one occasion, the lady or one of her friends would stop Greg dead in his tracks with his flirting to remind him either A) they're not going home with him, or B) he's a dirtbag, because they know his past. See, Greg has a little reputation in this town, but like most men he's naive to the fact women talk. So on occasion, a female bar patron will tell him to fuck off. And naturally, this puzzles him. Why would she turn me down? What, you don't like me? I thought we were friends? As if women should want to hook up with a single father who talks down to them in public.
Our dog here, Stanley, has met Greg a couple of times at the bars. Stanley can be a little dopey at times - alright, most of the time - but even a puppy has some sort of wise intuition that Greg is just a slime ball of utmost proportions. He'll growl at him, and Stanley isn't much of a growler. Greg will reply with the typical what, you don't want me to pet you? while walking around trying to pet our slowly retreating dog. Greg's mannerisms while trying to pet our dog, coupled with Stanley's reaction, is eerily similar to how Greg interacts with women.
I'm reminded of Greg's interaction with women after reading some of the yet more awful, misogynist things one of our Presidential candidates was captured on tape saying some time ago. Both Greg and this Intolerant Cheeto running for President share similar qualities. Both are bloviating, arrogant, shallow excuses for men, much less human beings. Both are in it for themselves, not giving two fucks how much they condescend and belittle those around them. What's truly scary is that both are fathers to young children. The Intolerant Cheeto has older children, but also one who is ten. I believe Greg's daughter is less than five years old. These poor kids (well, one of them certainly isn't poor) are going to grow up in the shadow of two grown men who treat women like absolute shit. I want to hope both of these young kids don't grow up and repeat this behavior, but I'm no magician.
Nor am I a therapist, which both of these kids are going to need down the line.
The missing barfly - let's call him Greg - is indirectly friends with people in our social circle here. In fact, they all used to hang out back in the day before I came into the picture. I've had the endless artificial joy of hearing story after story of their early intoxicated, sometimes drug-fueled adventures - whether at bars, bonfires, music festivals and the like. Greg certainly was a party kind of guy. Maybe he still is.
My interaction with Greg has consisted of him mostly rubbing my shoulders. Not in a seductive way, but in that way some men are merely shoulder grabbers when speaking to another. An older friend of ours from Charlotte does just that. He'll greet you with a limp-wristed handshake and a Vulcan Nerve Pinch on your opposite shoulder. Greg will do this with two hands, usually when one of his sports teams is on television beating one of your teams. And maybe you'd like to say these shoulder rubs make you a little uncomfortable, but by the time he does these sort of things he is already three sheets to the wind. By that point, you just have to hope the bartender intervenes, because Greg can be a bit of a hothead when he's drunk.
Another thing Greg becomes when he's drunk is a patronizing asshole. Although, it should be clear he acts like this even when he is sober - it's just much more defined when he's had a few shots in him. This comes more into play because Greg is a ladies man, or desperately tries to be one. Every time we ran into him, he would either have a new lady by his side, or would be talking about a new one to some of the regulars. The best of the bunch is when a potential new lady is in the bar, and he is peddling his flirting A-game with her. It's just all sorts of awful listening to this drivel. On more than one occasion, the lady or one of her friends would stop Greg dead in his tracks with his flirting to remind him either A) they're not going home with him, or B) he's a dirtbag, because they know his past. See, Greg has a little reputation in this town, but like most men he's naive to the fact women talk. So on occasion, a female bar patron will tell him to fuck off. And naturally, this puzzles him. Why would she turn me down? What, you don't like me? I thought we were friends? As if women should want to hook up with a single father who talks down to them in public.
Our dog here, Stanley, has met Greg a couple of times at the bars. Stanley can be a little dopey at times - alright, most of the time - but even a puppy has some sort of wise intuition that Greg is just a slime ball of utmost proportions. He'll growl at him, and Stanley isn't much of a growler. Greg will reply with the typical what, you don't want me to pet you? while walking around trying to pet our slowly retreating dog. Greg's mannerisms while trying to pet our dog, coupled with Stanley's reaction, is eerily similar to how Greg interacts with women.
I'm reminded of Greg's interaction with women after reading some of the yet more awful, misogynist things one of our Presidential candidates was captured on tape saying some time ago. Both Greg and this Intolerant Cheeto running for President share similar qualities. Both are bloviating, arrogant, shallow excuses for men, much less human beings. Both are in it for themselves, not giving two fucks how much they condescend and belittle those around them. What's truly scary is that both are fathers to young children. The Intolerant Cheeto has older children, but also one who is ten. I believe Greg's daughter is less than five years old. These poor kids (well, one of them certainly isn't poor) are going to grow up in the shadow of two grown men who treat women like absolute shit. I want to hope both of these young kids don't grow up and repeat this behavior, but I'm no magician.
Nor am I a therapist, which both of these kids are going to need down the line.