We knew this weekend was going to be awkward.
And in prototypical fashion, it didn't disappoint.
Let's start at the very beginning.
A very good place to start.
In the playoffs.
Looking back the game foreshadowed our evening quite nicely.
PO, via fb had sprung Kelly's Bleachers on me.
I didn't know if that was a reality, or one of our gold bikini with snakes type of comments.
It turned out PO's sister, KM had a wee birthday celebration and really, really wanted PO to stop by.
As it's fairly close to where I live. I obliged.
It'd be good to have a drink with a bunch of Packer fans and see KM, whom I haven't seen probably since last year this time.
And it's insane. I have never been to Kelly's Bleachers, but it was a little bit out of control. TV cameras were there recording the insanity that is a Packers playoff game in Wisconsin.
We finally find them after wading thru a sea of out dated Packer jerseys and turtlenecks, long hair on dudes and PO's born-again, yet trashed manager.
KM is happy to see us and we see one of our St. Patty's Day's besties and we reminisce about texting to land lines. It's fun time. You should try it.
We stay for a drink or two and then head to the house party that we/I had committed to.
The house party had a Robert Goulet theme and was at an old friend's house whom I hadn't seen in years. We knew no one else there besides the host and had decided early on that we would only stay for a drink or two. It's slightly awkward as we're literally standing in the living room drinking and talking about people that no one knows.
Fortunately the house party was close to everyone's favorite lounge (and by everyone I mean PO's and mine), Lee's.
Lee's is refreshingly empty and we get our fave seats at the bar.
And then a group of olds comes in.
And inevitably settles next to me.
As I've had about 3-4 drinks I'm in the talkative state.
So I'm not feeling SUPER judgmental.
And the guy seems nice enough. He's happy about the Packer win.
We start talking sports and he tells me that I'm pretty, but "not in a line kind of way. Just in a conversational way" (is there even a difference?)
He tell me I have big cheekbones, which I'm assuming is a back-handed compliment as PO agrees with him.
I then make a comment about people who watch Fox News.
Because I'm that way.
And of course he tells me he watches Fox News and that he's a republican.
I politely tell him we should probably stop talking is no good can come of this.
And of course, OF COURSE, he refuses to let it go.
He tells me how when we FIRST started talking I was kind of snarky and snippy, which I found to be hysterical, because I so WASN'T being snarky and snotty. I thought I was being nice.
But now he thinks I'm so "intelligent and pretty" and how he really thinks we can talk about politics without getting nasty.
Guess how this ended.
It wasn't bad enough that we were basically on opposite political spectrums, but that all throughout our conversation he kept just telling me how nice and pretty I was as if that were enough to change to my mind about politics. Because if there is one thing I love, it's being infantalized during an adult conversations.
And yes. I realize that having a political discussion in a bar is a bad idea.
I tried to stop it. I tried to put an end to it.
I love to argue.
I do. ESPECIALLY when I know I can win. And I knew that I could win.
And while I didn't change anyone's mind, I made the superior points.
PO, bored out of her mind, had gone outside to have a smoke.
Upon coming back in the conversation had turned to the deficit.
And olds was asking me what I thought we should do about the debt that we're facing.
And before I could say anything, PO asks him about the two wars that caused all of this deficit.
And olds didn't like that.
He called PO "vile and stupid" which was completely out of line.
I should clarify that this guy knew (not like it matters, apparently) that I had a partner, that I owned a house with said partner.
Not to mention he was old.
He backed off and his friends, for the rest of the night, apologized profusely for his behavior.
Which got kind of annoying. Because it was over.
The guy was a jack-ass, and for the most part knew he was to leave me alone for the rest of the night.
And in all honesty, if I would have known that it was going to last as long as it did, I wouldn't have even started talking to him/being my unusually nice self.
I will stick to sarcastic Jj from now on.
Consider this a lesson learned.
The rest of the night was actually quite lovely.
Minus apologies and brain talk.
The barkeeps got pleasantly tipsy and giggly and chest-bangy.
Our music played on the juke box, we sang loudly and proudly.
My "Thunder Road" brought down the house.
Well at least the air piano.