======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ==== ======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ====
When he’s at the bar with his buddies and catches the glance of some cute co-ed sitting at the bar…
On The Outside: The façade is real. The sleeves of my Oxford are rolled up an extra notch, right above my forearm. My hair is a glorious bastard between styled for work and “I really don’t do this, it just falls this way” messy, and that classic lean with my elbow on the table while I banter with the guys is on point. You might even get a glance back, accompanied with me leaning in to tell my buddy to check you out.
On The Inside: Shit, did she look at me or did she look at him? I hate this shirt–it’s laundry day. I don’t think it’s stained. Should’ve doubled up on the deodorant today, and I know for sure my cologne has worn off by now. Should I start carrying emergency cologne? She’s drinking a martini and I have a Miller Lite tall boy–might as well start coming here in sweatpants and flip flops. Don’t psych yourself out, don’t psych yourself bro. “Hey, can I get another one of these?” Fuck, at least order it draft.
When the cutie in accounting asks him how his girlfriend’s doing…
On The Outside: “Who?”
On The Inside: Why is she grilling me? Is she interested? Wind back the clock–was she always interested in me? Shit, no wonder she was a mess at the fundraiser last week. When life gives Bogey fish in a barrel, Bogey just kicks the barrel over. But I’ve been single for, like, three weeks. How did this slip? Fuck, I’m stalling. Can I play off saying that? Maybe she’ll buy that I have a concussion from a pickup basketball game last week. That’s an easy sell.
When a guy finds out a girl he’s been seeing is wifed up with some other dude…
On The Outside: “Betty? Yeah she was alright. Definitely one for the books, but that stalled out when she couldn’t flip an omelette.” Whatever, I’ll keep her number in the reserve, just in case that Facebook status changes abruptly.
On The Inside: Let’s check out this dude’s Facebook. Are you joking? Look at this guy, he’s probably unemployed. Cargo shorts? Really? You sat in the nosebleeds at the Sox game last week? Congrats, I hope you brought tissues up there. Shit, that’s a big TV. That’s your view from your rooftop deck? Oh, your parents have a place in St. Barts? This guy must be hung like an ox. I can’t compete with that subtle, Justin Timberlake in “The Social Network” nerdy but awesome façade. Back to Tinder, I guess.
When his mother tells him he should find a nice girl to settle down with…
On The Outside: “Mom, the last thing I need is another relationship. It’s 2014. No one depends on a significant other anymore. I have too much on my plate with work anyway.” This message is conveyed as sincerely as possible. I am a rock. I don’t need no woman in my life.
On The Inside: I am really getting that old? Is this a poke at my lifestyle–by the woman who birthed me? Maybe I should look for something “promising.” God knows anyone I text now isn’t going to fit the bill. Do I still need my parents’ approval on the woman I’m potentially going to wed? WED? What am I saying? Should I go to Jared? No, fuck that noise. My lifestyle is fine, it’s working for me.
When he’s browsing through Tinder…
On The Outside: Eh *right*, eh *right*, noooope *left*, eh *right*, boobs *right*, bikini *right*, woof *left*, eh *right*, blonde *right*, she kind of looks like Sansa *right*, meh *right*, two mutual friends *left*, bikini *right*…
On The Inside: She’s got teeth like a bike sprocket, but maybe she’s learned to work against them *right*. I’ve seen bigger, but whatever *right*. Wow, you’re like a solid eight *right*. Could I be seen out with you in front of my friends? *right*. Your legs look like putty, but you might be a nice person to talk to–but I can’t handle that pressure *left*. I’m not really a boob guy, but why not? *right*. Why does something so wrong feel so right? *right* *right* *right*…
Respond
I’m definitely more of an ass man, too. Give your old man a high five!
Bogey, I like your use of the third person.
Wow that first paragraph is eerily spot on to my life…
The first one for outside works for inside too
Fucking cargo shorts