A few months back I had taken a waitress job at the bar near my apartment. Truthfully, the place is almost always dead on the night I work and the people who come in are regulars.
After not having a table for almost 90 minutes, this younger guy walked in asking about happy hour and he became my one and only table for the next few hours.
I brought him his drinks and he started talking to me out of nowhere. Normally, I wouldn’t engage unless it was one of my regulars but there was no one there and I had nothing better to do.
He went on and on about how he was a male model and just had a show earlier that day. …he showed me video footage (barf). This fucker was such a pain in the ass. He tried to make it seem like he knew everything about everything. That the bar should have a sign outside with the happy hour deal (not entirely wrong) but he came in and asked. He came up with the solution.
We were chatting and I made a comment about “back in my day.” He asked me how old he looked and I guessed something like 22. He said he looked so good because of al lthe facials and massages he gets and I should really drop $100 sometime and do it. None of that is wrong, I probably should. But stop promoting yourself while talking to me. It wasn’t like, “Oh facials are so great. You’d love it!” It was more, “I do this thing. I am so great. You should do what I do.”
This led to a conversation about our birthdays. And damn it, we were a day apart. He invited me to his stupid ass party which would be at some bougie ass club in the city. If he wasn’t a douche, fine. But I don’t have time to stroke this fucker’s ego.
He also kept giving me the view count on the video he posted on Instagram and trying to get me to plug his Denim Day event on my real job’s social media. As he puts it, he “loves to give back.” Child, you are wearing a ripped jean jacket. Calm down. Then he said to follow him on Instagram. Fine, it would help me write this post. But he followed that with, “And if you could comment on some of my posts that would be great so they get some play. I don’t respond to them but for you, I will.” OH. MY GOD. This isn’t real.
People started coming into the bar which, thankfully, pulled me away from him. I had one of my favorite regulars so when it died back down, I chatted with him. He knew of a job opportunity for me so I was all ears. Then this fucking model kept interrupting with his stupid ass Instagram updates. “Oh, since I posted that I’ve gotten 15 emails. I already booked another job.” CONGRATU-FUCKING-LATIONS.
I had to start closing down which left the model and my regular in the dining room. I don’t know what was said during this time but I overheard the model say, “I should have a beautiful woman on my arm. Why don’t I have one?” (BECAUSE YOU’RE A DOUCHE) And my regular say later on, “You’re ridiculous!” because this guy was bragging about how much he made last year. The model was so annoying, the regular ordered another shot and left.
Model boy later asked if I was single. I saw right through him. It wasn’t that he asked it point blank. He was trying to build me up like a salesman. “Oh are you seeing someone right now? You have to have someone you’re talking to. There’s really no one trying to get with you? I’m so surprised.” No. No one likes me. Catch up, boy! (And work on your delivery).
The model finally decided to leave about 15 minutes before my shift was up. He said, “There’s a reason I met you today of all days.” And went on about how he wasn’t going to walk in the bar but he did, he has all these opportunities since entering, and since our birthdays were so close it was meant to be. He asked for my number and I gave it only because he also mentioned he’d be in the next week and I didn’t want to create that awkward moment. Figured I’d leave him on read while I made a few dollars off him.
He never texted me. Instead, he slid into my DMs.
Never heard from again.