Dear Man in the Bar,
Let me start out this letter by saying that I’m not mad, I’m disappointed. We had such a bright future. I just finished my 6th tequila shot, and you were starting to morph into an Adam Brody look-a-like. I would have considered hooking up with you, of course after I went to five other bars with my girlfriends. But as I was leaving, you did something that sealed your fate- and frankly, annoyed the shit out of me.
You said “Here, let me give you my card.” And suddenly those six shots of tequila felt like 2 ½ bottles of Mike’s Hard Lemonade. Yeah, that was the effect it had on me.
Firstly, where the fuck am I supposed to keep this magical card? Bitch, I’m carrying a fucking CLUTCH. Have you ever carried a clutch? It fits my ID, iPhone, lipstick, 5 dollars for a cab home, and a small baggy of weed. Nothing less, nothing more. Do you really think I’m going to put your card in there and waste my valuable clutch space? As if.
Second, the way you say that is so condescending. “Here take my card”, then give me a smirk. What is the expected outcome from this? “Oh my goodness, you have a card?! You must be so cool! I’m going to go home and laminate this and then put it in a scrapbook next to the picture of my Grandma and me.” You’re basically trying to advertise the fact that you must have some sort of job that you got a business card from. This is pointless to tell me because I’m just here to get free drinks and maybe have some careless sex, not learn about your career. This is a bar, not a fucking job fair. And newsflash, unpaid interns get business cards nowadays, so quit trying to catfish me.
What I’m wondering is if you always carry around your business cards to bars at night. Like is the nightclub a business opportunity to you? Or are you constantly carrying them so you can put them in fishbowl at a restaurant and be entered in a raffle for a free meal? Do you just constantly hand out cards to girls, is that the idea? I’m wondering if you realize that this card you gave me only has your office phone number and company email on it. So even in the off chance that I got shitfaced enough to give you a drunken booty call, how would I really go about this? “Oh my gosh I just wanna get laid tonight. I know, I’ll email that guy from the bar at his work address to take me home!” Or what, maybe I can drunk dial your office extension number? You really didn’t think this through.
But anyways, congratulations on having a “card”, that’s a huge accomplishment. It was so nice meeting you, but I kind of think you’re a tool so I’m just going to go now. It was really nice knowing that you couldn’t take 5 seconds to get my phone number and put it in your phone, like a normal person. I’ll take that card, cause I really need to get rid of my gum…Oh, yeah, thanks for the 6 shots, bye.