The Ride

This is part two in the five part series depicting the girls that will never get a second date. I have sat down several times to write this blog. Each time I became too enraged and had to relax by driving though the projects while throwing copies of my W2 from my car. You should see the faces of the people as they stare at all those zeros.

Background:

This girl has been in my social group for a while but always on the outer ring. Hot, but knows it. Skinny, with just enough plastic to let me know that she once hated herself. Did you expect otherwise?

7PM Thursday Night:

I jump in the truck and start on my way to her uptown Condo. Fact: if she lives in a place (other than a house) that allows you to park for free turn around. Parking fees help filter out the poor. Think about it, people get mugged walking to their cars. If they weren’t so fucking poor they would have spent the $4 to park in the garage and wouldn’t have had their GO phone stolen.

Back to the story. It has been a while since I have worn them, but this is a chic that definitely likes a guy in 7 Jeans ( told you, Charlotte has changed me a bit). I have on a crispy polo fresh from the dry cleaners. Fact, I am looking good. She meets me at the bottom of the elevator and we head up stairs for a pre-dinner drink.

The night starts off slow, she isn’t much of a talker (knows her place). We speed though our cocktails and start on the second. Little more talking. 3 cocktails down. Reservations are at 8:30. This girls isn’t going to make it if we don’t leave now. We get down to my truck and I open her door. This makes her smile like I just told her we could be facebook friends.

As we pull out of the garage I put on the radio for a little silence filler. Then it starts. Just a little hum. Nothing big, but I notice. Things are fine, we get to a stop light and then she pours it on. I am sitting next to mother fucking Rihanna junior. She starts singing like it is American Idol and I'm Simon fucking Cowell.

Now let me be clear. I don’t mind fun singing in the car after a few drinks or when driving back from the bars. But chics, if you are 24 (yeah I know she is old as shit) and you don’t have an album, chances are you suck. You are the only one who thinks you are a good singer.

I turn up the radio to drown her out and Rihanna Junior just gets louder. She starts with the squinty eyes and some hand movement. I may have to Chris Brown her ass. It doesn’t stop. No joke, Taylor Swift is sing, “ Romeo save me, I’ve been feeling so……” I can’t hear the radio. I’m trapped. This is before dinner.

There is no saving her now. I am cashed. She could give me a hand job (with full eye contact) during dinner as I eat my Mediterranean Pasta and I still would rather be watching my grandparents make out. Did you get a visual?

A few days later I get a text. "Had a lot of fun. Should do it again -T. Swift."

I learned so much about her in that short drive.

1. She thinks she is great.
2. She is the girl that sings Karaoke seriously. You know the one who chooses Carrie Underwood while everyone else is singing Aerosmith.
3. The plastic work is only a temporary fix for an inevitable collapse when she finds out that not only was she born looking like a boy, but she also has a voice like one.

Who has ever heard of a naturally good looking confident woman. Honestly. The reason why you are good looking is because you are worried about what guys like me think. THIS IS A GOOD THING. Once you start having things like “opinions” and “thoughts” it all goes downhill. The only things you need for success are a nice cable knit sweater, pearl earrings (not the cultured bullshit, we know the difference) and low self-esteem. Remember these things and you will be rewarded with a divorce at the age of 35, full custody and 50% of all my possessions.

If you ever get that feeling to sing just look at the W2 on my seat and imagine half of it is yours.

Frat-tivities

With the weather becoming nice I wanted to inform you of several do’s and don’ts pertaining to summer fun. I will provide a list of warm weather activities that will assure you don’t appear to be a douche or poor.

The first of the acceptable events:

Tennis

Where else can you put on a collar and short shorts and participate in an athletic past time? I like to show up in all white just so you know I’m fresh. In my bag I keep the necessities; my racket, tennis balls, water bottle, The Wall Street Journal and my resume. I’ll probably close a deal before I leave.

Girls, there are only 2 times that it is acceptable for you to wear a short skirt and grunt loudly.

1. At the tennis court.
2. Did I mention I have satin sheets?

Weddings

The adult date party. Put on a tux, head to the CC. Time for an open bar and taking advantage of girls that have a new found hope for love. Put a few shots in her hand, twirl her around the dance floor, next thing you know she is telling her friends that you remind her of the movie A Walk to Remember.

Girls, pretend you are drunk and we’ll pretend that “(you) really don’t usually do this”.

Frat Sodas

Any bar with an outdoor seating area is prime real-estate to sit back and enjoy a relaxing beer. The benefit is that you can drink at a bar without being forced to see My New Hair Cut. During the daylight hours these guidos stay in polishing their sneakers and ironing their dragon print shirts.

With this being said there are several activities that are not acceptable.

Running with your shirt off

Though I don’t condone running at all, I realize that after college something needs to be done to keep in shape. But under no circumstances is it ok to have your shirt off while running though the neighborhood. A cotton t-shirt does not make you sweat more. NO EXCUSES. Everyone owns a t-shirt, put one on. My former stance on running was that it is only acceptable if being chased by killer bees or……well nothing else. If you think about it, how cool can you look while running. Nothing is important enough to run to. Do you know who I am? Whatever it is it can wait for me.

Frisbee Golf

I hope you get hit by a car. Enough said.

And worst of all, Tanning in public

I don't care who you are, what you do or who your parents know. It is never ok to publicly lay out. You look like an idiot. Yeah, sweet, everyone knows you have an awesome tribal band on your arm. Congrats, while you were working on those abs all winter I was keeping your girlfriend warm. Did you know friction causes heat? Didn't think so.

Keep laying out. Your girlfriend has a short skirt and doesn't play tennis.

Check Please

So after a couple months of being single, I have some insight to offer. This will take the thinking out of whether or not a girl gets a second date. Being that I am incredibly good looking and wealthy she was lucky to get the first date. This is part one in a five part series that will evaluate the 5 girls that don’t get a second date. Print this; put it in your pocket. You may need to reread this in the bathroom while you leave her at the table.

The Salsa Refill Girl

So it's a first date and totally acceptable to go to a Mexican restaurant.

STOP: Get those poor thoughts out of your head. Not the Mexican restaurant that sell a piss flavored Margarita. I’m talking about the one that has servers that speak English. If you have never been to one of these please stop reading now. You are wasting time when you should probably be mowing someone’s lawn for extra money.

So back to the Salsa Refill Girl.

You walk in and are seated. Chances are you look like a frat star (like myself) and they want to put you near the front so people walking in can see beautiful people eat here. Sitting down she will most likely begin to tell you about some crap job she has, eg. “I just really love the way the children smile at me after their visit to the museum.”. This is actually what you hear, “I just really blah blah blah POOR blah blah POOR blah museum.”

NEWS FLASH! Babe, if you not topless, I’m not listening.

As the date progress you begin to think Patrick Bateman thoughts, “You're a fucking ugly bitch. I want to stab you to death, and then play around with your blood.”After a few minutes you notice that she is looking around franticly. Has she forgotten her name and where she is? Did she just think she saw the father that used to beat her? Maybe she has to shit and is looking for the closest potted plant. Then you realize what it is. This chic has eaten the fuck out of a basket of chip and practically chugged the salsa. Yes, all of it. The green and the red kind.

Does she not realize that you are about to purchase a meal for her? The chips are simply something to decorate the table and make it look festive. Maybe one or two are acceptable but they are not meant to be a substitute for an appetizer.

She won’t stop looking around. She puts her hand up to any waiter or waitress that walks buy. It doesn’t matter if they are on the other side of the room. SHE NEEDS TO FEED. Something is wrong here. You never expected this. How does she eat this much and stay so skinny? A smile works across your face. You had stumbled across a purger. Wait, focus. Yes she will be skinny her whole life but she will eventually lose her hair and her teeth will be grey (small smile again). No, you have to get out of this.

You have two options:

1. Stab yourself in the hand with your fork.
2. Excuse yourself to the bathroom and leave.

Don’t worry. She won’t notice you have left until there is another heaping basket of chips and bowl of salsa to calm her down.

You are free. Needless to say, she is not second date material.

Time to Buy

Ok everyone, it is the beginning of a new year. Time to start counting down until your next raise, looking for a new car and most importantly updating your portfolio. The third is where I come in. Your investments are important and if you follow my advice I can promise you the highest returns you have seen in years. It‘s a Bullish Market, don’t miss your time to buy.

So I imagine that by now you are sitting on the edge of your seat wanting that hot tip to make your year.

Well here it is:

It‘s a small firm founded 18 years ago. It’s employees, though not as experienced as other companies show room for major growth this fiscal year. This company has the potential to outperform all of its leading competitors but is previously untested. You ask, why has no one else snatched up this companies holdings. Until five days ago, due to government restrictions, they were not publicly traded. A few under the table deals happened but nothing note worthy.

Without further ado I give you 2009’s portfolio pick of the year: NNO

That is correct folks, Nineteen Ninety-One (NNO). Yes, after 18 years of waiting; its anticipated release it is finally here.

You asked me 5 years ago; “Patrick, why do you go to the ice-cream socials at the club rather than the driving range to work on your game?”

Research.

So that I might share with you the wonders of the trade. While you drank at the bars on Friday I was at the skating rink. While you slept in on Saturday mornings I was at the soccer fields. You told me, “Patrick, watching Dora the Explorer is gay.” Well who is gay now my friend. I have the single largest NNO portfolio in the nation.

No longer is it “frowned upon” to hit on a girl from ’91. Just 4 short years ago, I was catching flack from other investors. “Dude, she has braces”, and “Hey, maybe you shouldn’t be dating a middle schooler”….I heard you then, but look at me now.

I know what you are thinking: “This guy is a pioneer”

I am a man. Flesh and bone but follow me and I will show you things you could only imagine.

The Stall

So last night, just hanging out, having a few beers at the bar. Normal Wednesday (I always frat hard). After about 4 beers and no dinner it was time to let the trouser snake breath. This is the point of the story where I need to you to visualize what I describe.

Walking into the restroom, there are 4 urinals directly in front of me. To the right, along the same wall, there are 2 stalls. I don’t know why they put those there because no one poops at the bar. Except, that one time at Galletts. It was life or death, trust me.

Back to the story. So, I walk in and I’m the only person in the restroom. I choose the urinal that is to the far right directly next to the stall. I chose this one because I am courteous and went to the furthest one down the line so no one has to walk past me as I hold my Cyclops. As I start to let loose and read the ad for a reality company, that clearly chose a random blond with fake boobs off the street for their ad, I hear the door open. I was there alone so I knew that it was no one I knew so I had no need to look over my shoulder. The guy takes 4 steps into the bathroom. Then he paused.

What the fuck was he doing. I started to strain hard. Pee splashing off the back of the urinal onto my hand because of the powerful flow I was producing. I didn’t care. I needed to get out of there. Then it got really weird.

Man law states that you must skip a urinal between users. Even if there are 3 urinals only 2 people can go at the same time (this means that 3 urinals are just as useful as 4, only 2 can go at a time). Well this mother fucker walks up and stands at the urinal next to me and unzips his pants. He stands there for about 2 seconds, zips his pants back up and walks behind me to go to a stall…I am tripping the fuck out. Was this some kind of secret code that let a man in the ceiling know that it was ok to jump out and pound me in the ass? The guy continues into the stall and begins to pee. Now, I have learned over the years there are 3 kinds of people you don’t trust.

1. First and foremost: Poor People
2. The man at the mall that says he will give you $7 if you follow him into the back hallway and show him your wiener (I should have seen that coming from a mile away. Oh well I was 21, young and stupid).
3. The guy that pees in the stall.

What the fuck is wrong with the stall guy. Did he have some crazy experience where a man peeing in a urinal killed his family back in 89? Was he the victim of wandering eyes? Or does he simply think that standing next to another man while touching your wiener is weird. What a loser. One of the best things about being a man is that I can talk to the man peeing next to me at a truck stop about the deal I can get on a CB radio. I can talk to the guy at the bar about that skank that just walked to her car alone and if I should follow. It is a beautiful thing. The man that pees in the stall is no friend of mine nor is his friend that is hiding in the ceiling.

So Much for Survival of the Fittest

The orthodontist said it was because your jaw was not wide enough. Your mom told you it was, “because you got your dads smile.” Your grandmother told you that no one even noticed. If you want the truth come to me.

I know why you had braces. Are you ready for the answer?

Bad breeding.

Somewhere down the line, you have a little bit of poor in you. Some more than others. You are probably blind to the fact that, due to you crappy genetics, you have several other very obvious features that let me know your family probably share cropped for my family:

1. Your facial hair is red. There are two problems with this. 1) Your hair doesn’t match 2) Besides Ron Howard, who has red hair and is rich?
2. You have hair that grows on your back. Questions?
3. You know that mousy kind of face that poor people have? Trick question! If you answered “no” you are poor and you probably have one of those mousy faces.
4. You are prone to sun burn. Jesus loves rich people so he allows them to become golden brown and beautiful. Is it a coincidence that hell is hot and poor people burn? I think not.


How does it feel now that you know your father(6) was a serf back when my father(6) was eating over sized turkey legs in his castle. NO….not the over sized turkey legs that you buy at the fair (I saw it in a movie once). The fact that you just thought of the fair is another sign you are poor.

Note: Glasses are acceptable. The print is very small in The Wall Street Journal.

You Can't Be Me

OK…before I get started, did anyone realize that they are now printing $100 bills with big faces on them. All of mine have small faces….weird.

So the other day I was walking around the grocery store while on the phone with the girlfriends sister…yeah, high five! We were talking about our careers and shooting the shit about what the other was picking up for dinner. Wondering around, I noticed that the South Charlotte store was full of FratStars.

Wha?

I will not be out done…every move I make is strategically planned to make me better than you. You will never be on my level.

Freaking out, I immediately looked down into my basket.

“Do I have any off brand food? Was that on sale?”

Not a chance. There is a reason California Pizza Kitchen makes a pizza….it is not because their frozen pizza taste better than the rest. It is strictly for image. That pizza is very similar to a Louis Vuitton bag in the mall. Yeah, any old bag would work. But news flash, IM NOT FUCKING POOR.

That is exactly the message that my pizza sends.

I continue to walk around. “Oh, great news, Burberry makes waffles. I’ll get some of those with Vineyard Vines syrup. Scratch that, no one wants to smell like the fat kid in elementary school (put the syrup back).”

As I check out I glance around at others in the checkout lanes (never use the self checkout line. Who uses the self check lane? All together now….POOR PEOPLE).

“Ha ha ha…that girl is buying Deer Park water.”

If it isn’t in glass or a square plastic bottle it doesn’t touch my hand.

Two lanes down a guy handed his keys to the check out girl. She scanned some plastic card that gave him discounts. I squinted to look harder. Nope, he was not 87. Therefore this is unacceptable FratStar behavior. Be 100% sure that if ever hand someone my keys I fully expect them to pull my fucking car to the door.

Now that I have given myself a chance to observe these fake fratters, I slowly begin to calm down.

I am better than them. They love me. They want to be me. All is right in the world.