Take Your Mother to Drink Day April 22, 2007
Posted by charmingbutsingle in Dating, Friends, Men.trackback
I joined my Mother and some of her friends and colleagues for an after-work going away party on Friday evening. Mom’s worked with the same people for years and they know me, sometimes by reputation alone.
I actually saw the guest of honor at Friday’s drinking extravaganza at the Symphony the night before. So when I arrived Friday evening, her friend loudly announced, “You know, when I told [Charming’s Mom] that I saw [Charming] on Thursday night, she said, ‘Oh really? Were you at a bar or something?’”
“Mother!” I said, with a modicum of horror. “I. Was at. The symphony. Is it so hard for you to believe that I was anywhere but a bar?”
“I just figured that if someone saw you somewhere out at night …”
The entire party of 15 or 20 people, many who remember me as a pig-tailed five-year-old, erupted into laughter. They have, I’m sure, heard the stories about my misadventures, which I’d like to point out are ENTIRELY TRUE and possibly even more hilarious when you know all of the salacious details that I filter from my mother, because sometimes parents need to be protected from the embarrassment sure to befall them if they knew about the carryings on of their clumsy, overly opinionated, single 27-year-old daughters who really were raised better than this, I tell you.
I soon forgot the jokes at my expense when Mom told the cocktail waitress to put my wine on her bill and shared a brie appetizer with me, because I am quick to forgive and easily bribed with triple crème cheese, especially when said cheese is wrapped in flaky layers of pastry dough that is lightly drizzled with honey and baked before being sprinkled with nuts.
After an hour of appetizers and wine, the group voted to move to a second bar – and really, I am quite impressed at my mother’s ability to hang with the best of them, because I certainly wasn’t expecting her to bar hop on a Friday night, when, frankly, my experienced bar hopping soul could have easily been soothed with a nice night in and the leftover Italian I had in my refrigerator.
We headed down from our relaxed, expensive, champagne and brie atmosphere to a loud, rowdy place with watered-down whiskey drinks in plastic cups and, much to my mom’s dismay, not a bottle of wine in the whole place. We joined our party outside on the patio and my mom set off to procure some beers – Blue Moon for me and Corona, the only beer my mom really drinks, for herself. She got nowhere, and I mean, NOWHERE, with her polite manners and patience, as a free downtown festival was wrapping up and a crush of post-work twentysomethings wrestled for space at the bar for their gin and tonics while a crew of motorcycle riders jostled for space to order Budweiser en masse. My passive mother, who believes in taking turns and the honor system, might have been better served in this crowd if she’d brewed the beer herself, so I said, “Let me teach you something.” And I grabbed her by the arm and angled us through the crowd and to a corner of the small bar, where I pushed her $20 bill out for the bartender to see and forcefully ordered our beers – manners be damned, we just needed two beers.
A loud guy in a T-shirt, baseball cap and fake Oakely sunglasses sat at a barstool next to me, carrying on about his exploits from the previous night, which included, but were not limited to, visiting a strip club to watch his ex-girlfriend perform, getting entirely wasted and apparently having sex with the ex-girlfriend stripper. This story, peppered with expletives and derogatory terms for woman, did not really impress me. It thrilled my mom even less, so you can imagine her great excitement when I ordered the beers and Fake Oakely Guy turned to me and dropped the best pick-up line he could think of, saying, “So, you gonna drink that whole thing?”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, are you going to drink that entire beer by yourself?”
Now, had I been a less passive person and slightly quicker on my feet, I would have poured my Blue Moon right over his head and said, “Nope, I only wanted to drink half of it, so thanks for your help.”
Instead, I shot him a cold, silent look of disgust, a look perfected over nine years of being approached by tacky men in bars, and said, “Yes, the whole thing. I’m going to Drink. The. Whole. Thing.” And I turned on my heel and headed back to my group.
“See Mom, THAT is why I am still single. I’m supposed to swoon over some guy who dates strippers, curses loudly at bars and has the lamest of pick-up lines?”
Not five minutes later a somewhat intoxicated balding guy who appeared to be in his early thirties began circling our group and mumbling to people. I assumed he knew someone and just ignored him – right up until he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and began talking to me, slurring every third word and swaying as his drink sloshed around the sides of his flimsy plastic cup, nearly spilling with each move he made. I looked at my mom with big eyes, thinking that she could get this man, who was friends with someone she knew, to stop touching me. And she grabbed my hand and pulled me into her conversation, saying, “Do you know him?”
“No, Mom, I don’t know him.”
“Then why would he put his arm around you like that?”
I gave her a pointed look, wanting her to know that I was trying, but when I set out into the world, trying to find The One, all of The Not In A Million Years Ones and The Ones That Should Immediately Stop Touching My Back are the reasons that she didn’t have grandchildren.
“Mom, The pickings? They are slim.”
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I love, love, love this blog. Because you explain it so much better than I do, I just may subscribe (this particular blog) to that email update. Only I’d forward it to my own mother. With my luck, though, she wouldn’t understand,
“See Mom, THAT is why I am still single. I’m supposed to swoon over some guy who dates strippers, curses loudly at bars and has the lamest of pick-up lines?”
Instead of the usual Mani/Pedi’s we go, I just may throw a bar into the Mom/Daughter outing. Thanks for the idea.
Wait, so being drunk, loud, and obnoxious doesn’t drive women insane with lust? Wonder why so many do it, then. Certainly I don’t… often.. okay sometimes, but on the plus side I don’t hit on women at bars. Too shy for that. Besides, the few times I have one had a boyfriend (who was there and I didn’t know) and the other was not as young as I thought and also had a boyfriend. Signs should be mandatory. A “Hello my name is… SINGLE” sticker would be quite helpful in such instances.
As far as drinking with my parents, I never have. I have with my ex’s family at holidays though. I believe I proceeded to flirt with her aunt, but I maintain to this day she started it. It actually helps, because I am more social when I’ve got some drink in me.
I can’t blame women for being jaded about dating, and I’m sure I don’t help the situation. Maybe if more decent guys were less shy people wouldn’t have a negative image. Yes, I blame myself for your current lack of excitement about dating. It’s what I do.
Thoroughly enjoyable post.
see, i would never take my mom to a bar with me. in fact she doesn’t know that i drink anything more than red wine. and when i’m partying, i pretty much drink anything but red wine. i’m a firm believer that there are some things your mom should never ever ever know or see.
Recounts like this not only make me so happy I’m still single, but also remind me of why I love this blog so much.
‘….are the reasons that she didn’t have grandchildren’. Um no, these and many other things just can not often found in bars. The symphony maybe, but that’s just more expensive too. Never did go drinking with the folks, but I do recall the drink my momma usually ordered at dinner. I don’t think I often recall her drinking beer either. Momma did not go into places with poor service, and no table service was poor service. Dad was usually a beer on tap with a coffee chaser, and he’d be often arguing with the wine steward on their selection. As often as not, this proved to be a productive exercise for both. The venue might get a good deal on a wider selection at cheaper prices, my dad got a leg up on the competition and a rare chance to use his French or Italian. Arguing with the local larger louts? Never done. Telling dirty jokes with the beverage manager and never having to buy a refill for whatever you were drinking, just one advantage of having lunch or dinner with dad.
We await word of your further adventures. Cheers & Good Luck, ‘VJ’
My mom remembers perfectly well the horrors of singlehood in your mid-20s (she also insists your mid-20s lasts until you’re 29) - slim pickings, indeed. She also is insanely curious about my dating life, which I why I make it a point to tell her as little as possible. But it is always good (and hugely entertaining) to see other moms are different from mine.
BTW, I won’t be subscribing to your blog by email, but not because I don’t love your blog - I just feel that reading other people’s comments adds to the whole experience!
You know, the kind of retardness of the guy at the bar you describe (the “going to drink that all?”-guy) really makes me feel ashamed of my sex. And it makes me also wonder why I am still single (as if I already didn’t that). I mean, I must really stand out compared to these kind of retards at least…
This was a great Monday morning read! How true it is, slim pickings. Oh, and I am 34…it has not gotten any better since I was 27.
Well said. And? It’s good you didn’t pour your beer on his head. What a waste of good beer.
LOL! That’s hillarious. Sounds like perhaps you had a meaningful night mother-daughter bonding. ; )
Go Charming’s Mom!!!!!
I’m impressed that your mum comes out with you bar hopping. My mother sadly is too ill to come to the pub with us, but we recently invited my dad out and much to our surprise (he’s been turning us down for 10 years) he not only came out, but was good fun.
It’s easy to forget that parents were single once too. Though I think my father does appreciate that certainly in his local, the pickings are even slimmer than in your bar. There was one guy over 25 who wasn’t married in the bar. And he drives the local ferry, with the oil on his hands to prove it.
Yea, I cannot imagine being at the bar with my mom. Good on you for doing that!
The picking are slim, and the takeout and TV is oh-so-good.
This is a cute story. lol
Your mom and my mom would totally rock the bars - just not the ones where you have to be overbearing and rude to get service.
but my mom…? she can handle her liquor. Perhaps too well.
Mum, daughter, galfriends night out on the town is always worth the cackling and the carryin’ on.
i can relate. there is nothing tackier than a less-than-attractive guy who is more-than-a-little wasted giving you pick up lines like he’s mark wahlberg or something. SOOOOO lame!
This is brilliant.
I need to bring my 63 yr old mom with me to a bar and have that experience, so that she can see what we single girls have to face. Maybe then she’d stop dispensing simplistic dating advice to me. She makes it seem like I’m doing something wrong….I’m convinced tho that if my mom experienced something like this maybe she’d quiet down!
So it’s not just the men here that are that rude and obnoxious? I thought moving would help me maybe find Mr. Right. Figured that only in this state men were rude and crazy. Unfortunately, I’m seeing that they’re the same everywhere. *sigh* Balding, drunk, and unappealling.
I cannot imagine taking my 64-year-old mother to a bar even though we are close. And let me tell you, you will have a better chance of finding a decent guy online than in a bar. I finally met my soulmate on JDate last September and we’re still dating. I’m 35, he’s 47! Hope you don’t have to wait as long as I did!
It is so nice to see that you have such a close relationship with your mum. The women in your life will always be there for you, as guys come and go.
Talking of slim pickings! When the guys hit 40 and marriages begin to crumble, I cannot even begin to describe what a wild, wild West world of dating is out there. The ‘good’ ones are usually married.
very, very slim!
In my case the ‘good ones’ aren’t taken, just in a state of past relationship confusion, major life changes, and several thousand miles away. Course, some I know would argue the good tag. Such is life.
And guys can be there forever too, just not necessarily in a romantic capacity. My ex? I told her almost 10 years ago she’d never get rid of me. Even now, she hasn’t, and she never will. Course, having a child together helps that along now.