You Are A Douche

At first this blog was going to be about everyday people who are douche bags, but after last night, I have decided too, that establishments can be douche bags.  I ate at Baralo’s Saturday night with a group of friends in SoHo.  We were enticed by the the place due to the great outdoor seating.  I find that most restaurants that have prime real estate or great outdoor seating will slack on food and service, so those places can go fuck themselves.  Well, I fell for it a gain.  My friends and I were reprimanded by some old crotchety Jewish lady who said we were talking to loudly, basically having too much fun.  Instead of politely asking if we could move or keep it down she decided to bottle up her anger and it let it fester and turn into a resentment where she exploded with harsh words.  My lady, you are a douche.  When I moved to New York City and applied for server positions at restaurants, the job description always insisted on NY dining experience which now I believe means having the tolerance and patience to wait on mean Jewish women.  Also, to my understanding NYC serving experience means taking several smoke breaks, being unaccommodating while sporting a shitty attitude.  NYC dining experience you are also a douche bag.  We finally got seated after we got reprimanded.  We were sat by being pointed in the direction of our table like a lazy worker at Urban Outfitters showing you to the dressing rooms.  We had to find our own way through the disorganized gauntlet of occupied tables.  We didn’t receive our menus until about 20 minutes later.  How do you seat a table without menus?  Our waiter didn’t show up until almost 45 minutes later.  I’m beginning to feel stupid that we put up with this bullshit.  I was just enjoying my company.  Nothing brings a group of people together that having a mutual hatred toward a person or situation.  It’s true.  We then ordered our mediocre meals that arrived an hour later that we were presented  luke warm.  To cap off the whole experience the check was dropped with added drinks.  When we confronted the italian server with the unexplainable confidence ( I would have been embarrassed if I was him) about the drinks he was on the defense.  He questioned my friend if she was sure she had two champagne cocktails instead of three, basically accusing her she was too drunk to realize how much she had drank, classy.  That whole place is one big douche bag.  They even thought they were in the right to slap us with automatic twenty percent gratuity.  Baralo’s, you can go fuck yourself.

Last night I went out with my sister and two of her comic acquaintances.  Since there were four of us, two boys and two girls, the conversation naturally paired off.  My sister luckily snagged the normal, married guy with a positive and healthy outlook on life who drank in moderation.  I, however, was stuck with the drunk, sweaty guy who started the night with this winning line, “I used to be into knowledge, but now I am more into wisdom.”  As the night was progressing his hand began to continuously nudge mine as he talked with me about his views on positive based comedy and Buddhism while spittle was flying from his mouth onto my neck and ear.  His bloated, red face from years of abusing the bottle kept pushing into my neck as he then told me that I seemed numb to life, and then followed that up a few moments later by telling me I had a great vibe and that he wanted to know me better.  As the night began to wind down, I was looking forward to getting his damp, sweaty palms off of me.  Moments before the final escape, on the cusp of making my exit, he grabbed my chin and went in for the kill.  I was forced to turn my head and question his drunken, inappropriate, and revolting intentions.  His response, “Let me show you how a real man kisses.” As I struggled to get away from him more he followed up that line with, “Why would you turn down pleasure?”  I finally escaped physically unscathed, but mentally molested. The night left me to question myself…how did I behave that told this “man” that his behavior was acceptable let alone wanted?  Hey, MR, you are a douche.

One of my friends came to work and visited me, she’s a super hot model.  A guy standing near by said, “Wow, is your friend a model?  She’s gorgeous!  That’s so cool you’re friends with a model”.  This guy is a douche.  It’s like someone who says, “you look tired” or, “you look sick”.  Girls can be douches too, just so you know.