Went out to a bar last night to meet my bro-in-law and his friend from college for drinks. Some stupid ritzy queen anne bar. Bunch of yuppies. The women were cut and primped to within an inch of their lives. The men wore suits. The drink of specialty were big 'tinis, as they called them. The women were all angling like they were bait.
I had come straight from class so I was wearing my teacher-wear.
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About me
I live in the Pacific Northwest. I like fashion, writing, and photography, and I'm always sifting through the past and thinking about the nature of memory. For these reasons, I keep a blog to record the more transient moments of my interests.
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May
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2 comments:
Funny, many women were dressed like this for the Rush Limbaugh lecture here in Dallas. Nothing low-cut, but short skirts: check. "Finished" hair: check. Full makeup: check. Biz attire fit for Trump: check.
I look at it this way: When one is so high on that pedestal, when one lets herself go, that's a long way to fall.
Your forgot to mention that the bar next door was having a speed dating thing (Or as your brother-in-law says, "turbo dating"). I'm pretty sure the women in the bar were turbo dating escapees.
I really don't get the purpose of turbo dating. The people who make good first impressions don't need it. The rest don't have a clue. For them, it should be called turbo rejection.
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