a guy walks into a bar…

Not too long ago I had the pleasure of taking a road trip with my fiance.  We both consider ourselves road warriors and enjoy the journey and the travel as much as the destination.  Unplanned stops often pop up and this trip was no different.   We got a late start on the day and just outside of Pittsburgh seemed like a good place to drink some beers and lay our heads down. We held only one requirement, a place to sleep and a beer joint, preferably within walking distance of each other, and preferably where a couple of lesbos could go and not get their asses kicked.  Imagine our delight after finding the ROUTE 8 lodge, which was attached to the ROUTE 8 LOUNGE. Seems too perfect, doesn’t it?

As my lady was checking in the woman behind the desk said  “oh, by the way, the bartender in there,  she works in her underwear. Just thought I should let you know, some women get put off by that”.
Not these women. Not at all. It didn’t take long to realize that we were walking into an interesting situation. There were about 10 guys at the bar, all of them seemed to have come in solo. My fiance and I and 10 single guys sitting in a bar. As a performer, I pride myself in the ability to read a room, and figure out who the dick is going to be.  As I made my way from table to bar to order the FIRST round, I notice an older gentleman looking at my lady, and honestly, not trying to hide it.  Subsequently, I stare at him, until  he turns my way, realizes he has been caught, and say  sarcastically  ”how are ya?” (admittedly I was  metaphorically peeing on her, but it was necessary)  I can’t blame the fellow for gawking , my lady is a looker,  I’m pretty used to dealing with onlookers.  I thought that would be the end of that.
Boy was I wrong.
Mr Golf, as I call  him, apparently did have a friend that was in the restroom, and when his friend returned all I could hear was ‘dyke’, not directed at me, just a descriptive term used in their discussion.  Imagine my surprise when Mr Golf’s buddy walked to our table, announced his departure and asked us if we “could keep his buddy company, he didn’t want to leave him all alone” to which we replied, in unison ” he looks like a grown man”
A look of disinterest must be Mr Golf’s cue, because as we were saying it, he strolled over.  His elder buddy said adios and we were left in that awkward circle, the three of us. Mr Golf made some small talk, told us we were full of shit when we said we were engaged (after showing him the ring) and continued to explain to us how his wife didn’t fuck him anymore.
Imagine our surprise, that this gentlemanly fellow couldn’t get laid.  He continued describing his best interpretation of the situation, “she must be finger fucking herself in the shower” he said to us,  ”that’s why her finger hurts all the time”
Did I mention we had met this guy 6 minutes before?
Then when I politely explained to him that we weren’t interested, and that my Fiance,  DEFINITELY wasn’t interested, he countered with the lamest response of all time. “You know I’ve never seen the rooms in this hotel” he said. “You’re not missing much” we replied. It was true, the place was under construction and  was less of a Hotel with a bar as it was a Bar with a hotel. yeah. that kind of creepy.
Usually, that’s enough to make a guy leave.  Not Mr Golf.  He countered with ” I just want to watch, maybe I can watch”  NOW this is about 10 minutes into the evening, and the thing is, HE DIDN’T EVEN OFFER TO BUY A FUCKING DRINK. Really buddy?  You think crying about not getting laid is going to get a couple of lesbos to feel sorry for you? We aren’t that lesbo couple, but they do exist, but even they require that you pour some whiskey down their throats for christ’s sake.
I realized I should offer some advice to misguided fellows when approaching my kind in public.
1.  Spend more than 10 minutes in conversation before you ask if you can   jack off in the corner.
2.  Offer to buy a beer, or seven.
3. DO NOT call your wife who is at home with your daughter a CUNT because she won’t put out.  You’ve already shown us that your idea of foreplay is having your 70 yr old golf buddy come over and ease you in.
4. a ‘Titty fuck’ is not less offensive, it actually puts your penis closer to my mouth. and that’s gross.
5. When a woman explains to you that she has a master’s degree and she would prefer you didn’t use the term “titty fuck” its best to not roll your eyes.
6. The next time you want to figure out why your wife isn’t fucking you, instead of talking to random lesbos in a bar. try this. Put down the golf club, pick up a six pack, drive home, change a diaper and tell your wife she is pretty.
I can’t guarantee that will work, but your odds are better there then they are out in the real world.  She married you,  so she must think you have ONE redeeming quality. We would probably just make you get naked and tie you to a chair in a dirty motel, call your wife and tell her where to pick you up.