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Ok so, I'm spending the waning hours of 2017 reading a book in a quiet bar with a glass of wine. To get here, I stopped at a less quiet bar up the street to get a quick bite to eat. 1/whatevs
At the first bar, I sat next to Super Obnoxious Bar Patron, who used the word "retarded" as the punchline for multiple jokes. Then he came back from the bathroom and spoke of having shit his pants. Let there be no question: this guy is objectively awful.
He left, soon after. Not without another 10-minute rant to his girlfriend about the state of his underwear. She, you might imagine, remained stoically silent.
So then I get to this nice cozy new bar and here he is. THE SAME GUY.
I've spent roughly 90 minutes of my afternoon near this guy and haven't heard his girlfriend say a single word.
Turns out: he made up that story because he didn't like the people sitting to his left at the first bar. Except when he told the story there was no way for them to have heard the story. Basically only I and the girlfriend heard the story.
I learned this at bar no. 2, where he was extolling the virtue of a "starter marriage" in Las Vegas back when he was 28.
He's 42 now, on marriage no. 2, and telling the fake-poop story as if it should impress his fellow patrons at this second bar.
No one was impressed. He also told a story about his receding hairline. Which also failed to impress people.
Anyway, I'm staying in on New Year's Eve and this guy was the worst.
Welcome to Brooklyn!
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