My First and Last Experience with a Metrosextican!

Hey bitches, Nautigirl here! While I do have some juicy new stories I thought I would share an oldie but goodie to begin my weekly guest posts.

Allow me to set the stage...

It has been a while since I’ve had good enough content to spill mostly because I go to work go home put on my night gown and eat Smith's hot dogs every night. But alas I decided it was time to get out of the house.

Election night Jess and I are bored and we head to the neighborhood bar to kill time. We both end up talking to the guys on each of our prospective sides, i.e., me to my right, and Jess to her left. My guy was Mike the metrosexual Mexican, i.e., Metrosexican. (Come to find out he was actually Puerto Rican, but Mexican works better for the story so deal) Jess had Eddie the Electrician. So Mike was no McDreamy but he'll do, we had some good conversation, but then I was reminded of Erica's incident in Toronto when she was talking to that guy who was sitting on a barstool and got up and was like 4 feet tall. Yes, Mike the Metrosexican was a midget. Not really a midget, but definitely a pint-sized little man. Why are bar stools so deceiving?!? So anyways he called last night and wants to hang out and I'm like what the hell, I'm sick of Smith's wieners, I'll go! Maybe he will be taller than I remember?

So I arrive at the bar, indeed he is not taller yet shorter than I remember, really he looks like a troll but I'm already here I might as well get a free drink out of this and then skedaddle. Within five minutes of our conversation he guesses the perfume I am wearing...correctly. The night continues, yes I stayed for more than one free drink. I forgot to mention it was karaoke night and Mike the Metrosexican troll says he sings for a band. So HE proceeds to go sing karaoke. #1 I am not singing karaoke and #2 I refuse to sit in the front. So he sings and actually has a good voice but there I am sitting at the bar hating life. He eventually comes back to our seats and the conversation continues but then he decides to sing AGAIN. The song being "Don’t Stop Believin” by Journey. These lyrics officially stuck in my head "just a small town girl, living in a lonely world, who took the midnight train going anywhere". HOWEVER, he proceeds to come over to the bar where I am sitting and sings TO ME. So picture this in your heads ladies and gentleman: a pint-sized Mexican man, singing karaoke to me, at a fairly empty bar on a Tuesday night. Just let that sink in. I was mortified.

So I try to make my exit and of course he said, "I had an amazing time…yadda yadda." Then he tells me to call him. NEWS FLASH: "I don't call boys." I said okay. But I highly doubt that will be happen. He eventually did call and I didn't have him in my phone, so I thought it was someone else so I responded. But I figured out it was him the next day and have ignored him ever since. Lucky me, I saw him at Pickles a few weeks ago and hid, yes I hid, but better than being stalked by a Metrosextican.

xoxo
Nautigirl