Last night I was sitting at a pub that I used to frequent back in my days of corporate work. Great spot, O’Neill’s on 3rd Ave. Check it out if you have the chance. But I digress…..so sitting at the bar and I am chatting with two people next to me; a man and his platonic female friend. The girl who is obviously in love with the guy keeps repeating that they are good friends and how “great” of a guy he is. I would now like to point out that this guy has his iPhone out and is looking at pictures of naked women. I guess that is just how he rolls. Who am I to judge? This continues and he begins talking about his many conquests. Again, who am I to judge him? The woman starts talking about how great of a guy he is again and starts talking about how she knows this because he is a gentleman around her 15 year old daughter who has “tits as big as mine”. Yep, the conversation went there. Of course, I am now sort of being talked to instead of with by this odd couple. The woman goes on to tell me how her daughter lives 2,500 miles away (Gee, I wonder why?) and that they are friends on Facebook. She now goes on to tell me that most of her friends (the woman is 36 years old) and an ex-boyfriend of hers are also friends with her daughter on Facebook, oh, as is Mr. Wonderful sitting next to her.
Here is where I decide to chime in……
Really? Your 36 year old, single, female friends who lead adult lives are friends with your daughter?
Your ex-boyfriend is friends with her? Cause that is healthy.
That is how you know what is going on in your daughter’s life? Facebook? Really? (I’m not a parent, but I have to imagine that somewhere in the handbook you get when you have a kid it clearly states that the way to be involved in your child’s life should be through daily contact or maybe a phone. Seeing your kid grow up via Facebook posts…..well, that sounds pretty shitty to me.)
Funny enough Mr. Wonderful agrees with me. I think this is the point when she decided to leave (to go to White Plains to the apartment she shares with a guy she doesn’t wants to leave, but doesn’t know how to….yeah, she dove into her love life a bit when Mr. Wonderful busted out the pictures of a young Russian girl who had photographed herself nude in her kitchen.) She reaches into her bag and pulls out a bottle of wine to give to Mr. Wonderful (oh yeah, she is an alcohol sales rep) she then attempts to molest him and gives him 44 kisses on the cheek, each time moving closer to his mouth. He was like a fish out of water moving his head back and forth avoiding her advances.
So Ms. Mother of the Year 2011 leaves and I’m sitting next to Mr. Wonderful. He refers to her as “A nice girl, just a little confused.” How astute of him.
We start shooting the shit and he declares (I’m not even sure where this came from) “I’m probably the smartest guy in this bar.” hahahahahahahaha
I have one rule in life (Ok, I have several rules, but this one is important) if you have to say you are the smartest guy in the room, you probably aren’t.
So I tell him, “I have a tip for you, the smartest guy in the room doesn’t need to say it out loud.”
He responds, “I have tip for you, don’t tell the smartest guy in the room that he isn’t the smartest guy in the room.”
Now, did I say he wasn’t. Nope. I simply think he sounded like an asshole. That was about where the night ended for us. He kept harping on the fact that he was the CEO of his own company and that he had been on Wall St. since he was 18 (how about that higher education!). What do I know, he has an iPhone and I don’t. Mr. Wonderful leaves and I enjoy a good laugh with the bartender.
But wait, the smartest guy in the room walked back through the door five minutes later. “Hey, have you seen my phone?”
He asks the bartender. “Nope.”
He checks his back pocket. Oh, there it is. Smartest Guy in the Room. Yep, you sure are.