Awkward Reminders Of Previous Drinking Evenings: Wet T-Shirts and One-Armed Waitresses

For some reason, I found myself thinking back to an awkward reminder of a previous drinking evening I encountered back in my original undergrad days.  I was waiting at the shuttle stop outside Durham Science Center at UNO for a ride back to the Aksarben campus (by which I lived) and a girl waiting there asked if she knew me.  Apparently, I looked familiar.

I remembered immediately where I knew her from.  She had been a waitress at Guitars and Cadillacs one of the few times I had gone.  It had been wet t-shirt night, which was one of the few nights my friends could talk me into going.  No, it wasn’t for the wet t-shirts.  Good guess though that may be, at Guitars and Cadillacs the only way to get close enough to the stage during the wet t-shirt contest was to have been born there.  Otherwise, you weren’t going to see anything.  Too crowded.  No, wet t-shirt night happened to be the one night Guitars and Cadillacs didn’t play country.  Hence, the only night I was willing to go to the place.

My Omaha friends might remember Guitars and Cadillacs.  It was quite a popular spot back in the late nineties, early two thousands.  Then it wasn’t popular anymore.  Then it was closed.  Now I think it is Club Nico or something like that.

Anyway, I happened to be there this particular evening drinking with a friend and I ran into a couple of old friends from high school.  I was drunk, but they were HAMMERED.  We sat at a table and they proceeded to hit on the waitress.  Badly.  The kind of hitting on that only extremely drunk people do because anybody else would be far too embarrassed to say those sorts of things.

My friends were apparently far too drunk to remember one little law of nature that has kept me from making quite as much of an ass of myself as I otherwise would have.  That law of nature is: the waitress is not going to go out with you.  This is a very simple, almost absolute rule.  No matter how much you think you are clicking with the waitress, you aren’t.  She is being paid to be nice to you.  She does not want to know you outside of the business situation.  She does not date guys she meets while working, particularly drunks.  She does not want your number.  She will not give you hers.  In particular, she does not want to go home with you.

Note, this rule is even more true for strippers/dancers.  Particularly where the strippers and/or dancers are also waitresses.  This is not how you meet girls that you will later go out with.  Get used to this and stop trying.  You’re just embarrassing everyone.

Regardless, my friends had apparently forgotten this rule.  Of course, they should have been reminded since she did not respond well to their advances.  She was nice, but was clearly not pleased to be getting hit on by two drunks.

So, when she asked if she knew me from somewhere, I immediately recognized her.  I didn’t want to say: “Oh yeah, I was at Guitars and Cadillacs a while back and my drunk friends kept badly hitting on you.”  Nor did I want to bring up the fact that part of the fact that I recognized her so quickly was that she only had one arm.

Thus, I just pretended like I wasn’t sure.  She asked if I ever went to Guitars and Cadillacs and I did admit that much.  Then we got on the shuttle and that was that.  Me being just a little embarrassed over the whole thing.

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About David S. Atkinson

David S. Atkinson enjoys typing about himself in the third person, although he does not generally enjoy speaking in such a fashion. However, he is concerned about the Kierkegaard quote "Once you label me you negate me." He worries that if he attempts to define himself he will, in fact, nullify his existence...
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