My neighborhood (or the part of it I claim despite living 20 blocks west but who's counting) is kinda considered hip. Not enough to be swarmed by hipsters or hippies but enough so that when people say "Oh, I don't go out to the avenues", we can gladly say "Good!...fucking hipsters". Still, there are many people who say to anyone who will listen as to how boring and "over" my neighborhood is. Yeah, it's kind of quiet and we don't have crackheads passed out on our stoops (if that's your idea of class a-la the Mission) but we have some very colorful characters and hardcore drinkers creative writers that make my neighborhood an interesting place to live. We have bars with windows and kitchy restaurants. Oh, and did I forget we have the busiest train in the city going past our front doors! I can talk all the shit I want about it - I live here but even I can admit it's a little too quiet sometimes. So when people decide that they can verbally trash a neighborhood, I need to make sure they've either:
The Not-So Irishman classified as number one and thus, was able to discuss the shortcomings of my neighborhood but considering he lives on the Northside version of the Sunset, I was able to get my digs in. He was goofy, irreverent, sweet - we got along immediately and he suggested we meet for sushi (score!). I'm trying to look past looks and he was passably cute. Not exactly my type but whatever, he was funny. Our discussion topics ranged from The Lion King (a highly overrated movie in my opinion); ways to ditch cable (I was taking notes); our dating "deal breakers" (mostly joking - oh, you wear white socks. This isn't going to work...); to how to spot douchebags from 100 feet (I'm a little too good at this one). It was too early to call it a night so we headed towards his neighborhood bars and of course, that's where things start to get interesting.
We ended up at The Bitter End (a bar with a trivia night I've been attempting to try) at 9 p.m. on a Friday night. Oh yeah, there was plenty to talk about. The best was the four-leaf clover he had tattooed on his right arm. "Oh, are you Irish?" I asked thinking this was a dumb question. Without skipping a beat he says, "nope, Jewish". I almost fell out of my chair laughing. How clever to take a useful transgression and make a joke out of it for the rest of your life, hence the name the Not-So Irishman. After we knocked back a couple drinks the topic turned to the dreaded-ex's, drugs and too much about each other's past. This was ok to me, I liked him and he seemed like he needed someone to talk to.
Of course, I have to be the asshole who knocks over the wine at the bar. That pretty much ended the night. I wasn't feeling enough of a romantic connection to keep going. Then he brought up one of my real deal breakers, "So, I'm a smoker. Is that ok?" I smiled sadly, "unfortunately, that IS one of my deal breakers - no joke. Sorry". He seemed to get it (or didn't quite believe me) and we talked outside while he smoked. Suddenly an anorexic sorority-type blond come running up to the Not-So Irishman really fast, so much that he gave a little yell as she pretended to know him and bummed a cigarette. I'm not sure if he gave one tocoke-head sorority Sally just to get her the fuck away from us or to be nice but as she immediately ditched us for some musclebound douchebags heading into the bar we looked relieved. I had to get my parting shot in, "It's ok that she didn't say thanks. She'll probably get date-raped by one of those douchebags. Karma's a bitch!" At least everyone smoking outside thought this was funny even if the older couple going to dinner gasped.
By this point in time I had realized completely that I've shoved this guy in the friend zone. I could totally see myself drinking and making fun of hipsters with this guy. He IS funny and I'm always up for making friends but I just didn't see it as anything more. I still talk to the Not-So Irishman every now and then and I hope he's learned not to give cigarettes to cracked-out bitches.
- Lived there for at least one month
- Dated someone and/or have a good friend who lives there
- Been thrown out of a bar and/or coffee place in said neighborhood
That's what you get for ordering extra foam bitch!
The Not-So Irishman classified as number one and thus, was able to discuss the shortcomings of my neighborhood but considering he lives on the Northside version of the Sunset, I was able to get my digs in. He was goofy, irreverent, sweet - we got along immediately and he suggested we meet for sushi (score!). I'm trying to look past looks and he was passably cute. Not exactly my type but whatever, he was funny. Our discussion topics ranged from The Lion King (a highly overrated movie in my opinion); ways to ditch cable (I was taking notes); our dating "deal breakers" (mostly joking - oh, you wear white socks. This isn't going to work...); to how to spot douchebags from 100 feet (I'm a little too good at this one). It was too early to call it a night so we headed towards his neighborhood bars and of course, that's where things start to get interesting.
We ended up at The Bitter End (a bar with a trivia night I've been attempting to try) at 9 p.m. on a Friday night. Oh yeah, there was plenty to talk about. The best was the four-leaf clover he had tattooed on his right arm. "Oh, are you Irish?" I asked thinking this was a dumb question. Without skipping a beat he says, "nope, Jewish". I almost fell out of my chair laughing. How clever to take a useful transgression and make a joke out of it for the rest of your life, hence the name the Not-So Irishman. After we knocked back a couple drinks the topic turned to the dreaded-ex's, drugs and too much about each other's past. This was ok to me, I liked him and he seemed like he needed someone to talk to.
Of course, I have to be the asshole who knocks over the wine at the bar. That pretty much ended the night. I wasn't feeling enough of a romantic connection to keep going. Then he brought up one of my real deal breakers, "So, I'm a smoker. Is that ok?" I smiled sadly, "unfortunately, that IS one of my deal breakers - no joke. Sorry". He seemed to get it (or didn't quite believe me) and we talked outside while he smoked. Suddenly an anorexic sorority-type blond come running up to the Not-So Irishman really fast, so much that he gave a little yell as she pretended to know him and bummed a cigarette. I'm not sure if he gave one to
By this point in time I had realized completely that I've shoved this guy in the friend zone. I could totally see myself drinking and making fun of hipsters with this guy. He IS funny and I'm always up for making friends but I just didn't see it as anything more. I still talk to the Not-So Irishman every now and then and I hope he's learned not to give cigarettes to cracked-out bitches.
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