FR: DC D2: The 'Shagadelic' Swede
So that’s the first thing I did to waste time. When I left, traffic was thick. I saw a Best Western and decided to write up the FR from yesterday and post it. This combined with some short emails took four hours! There goes the day. Ten PM and I set off for Georgetown. I don’t know the place to go on a Tuesday night and I might as well go pick up my bike.
I get parked and find my bike and head to this riverfront café that definitely had the biggest crowd. I go into a warm up set of two girls and a guy, professional type. I’m just kinda like. Hey guys, you look fun, having a good time?, how was your day? stuff. Anyway, these were the kindest people that I met all night. The couple broke away and I chatted the less attractive of the two women for awhile. I’m wearing jeans and a decent button shirt. Lots of pink polos and khakis and sandals and dirty hats in this crowd.
I then talked to this pretty woman wearing all black. This was one of the most bizarre interactions I have ever had. Lady kinda looked like Amanda Peet. But she said NOTHING coherent. A) very very strong accent (from Sweden). B) very very drunk C) I think she had some kinda disorder, like multiple personalities or something. As soon as I opened her she had her hands on my chest and said something like…I’m a good girl. I’m bad. NO. Trying. You know? Beg me. In-Out. I’m good. You’re shagadelic. I kid you not, she called me shagadelic. More than once. But that was just about all I could translate. Anyway, she was flirty and forward and completely incoherent. Her eyes would roll in the back of her head and shit. She was with three dudes who kept checking on her. Very weird. At some point I thought all the following…she’s on drugs, this is a joke, she’s a prostitute. BUT HOT. And she was touching me and not making any sense. At one point she grazed her had across my crotch and she also bit my neck. Crazy. I couldn’t get a discernable answer to any question. I could not get her to leave either. Let’s go for a stroll. Let’s go somewhere exciting. She’d say OK, but not make any move. I would take her hand and try to lead. She’d start with the I’m a good/bad/good/bad/drunk woman complex. If I walked away she would talk to one of the three guys, but always start talking to me when I returned. Or make sexual gyrations or even orgasmic noises. I became aware of many people watching us and I decided that it was bad social proof. Social disproof or something to be with the drunk Swede making sex noises. I was mostly aloof toward her, saying that she had no chance with me and I would be too intense for her. Whatever. Her crew left, and she left, when I was talking to someone else. Maybe I could have number closed her and found her to be more pleasant and *together* during the day. Meh…
So I stayed at this place and went into five more sets, which was like twelve girls and a couple of associated guys. ANYWAY, I got blown out like nowhere else! Like backturns, cold shoulders, and even a fuck off. I’m just being social like, hey are you nice? This is my first day here. You would think that stating the fact that I found people rude and insensitive would give a girl a chance to prove that she is not and you could at least get a few minutes in set from *sympathy*. Nope. Well, maybe half a second, then it’s “That’s DC.” “I’m rude too.” “Fuck off.” Strange night. I tried damage control threads like: Damn, I don’t have an agenda. I just moved here and I know noone. I’m just social. This is awkward. I’m shy. All your friends were once strangers. At some point you had to open up and find out what people were like. I let myself be vulnerable to take chance and risks. No go. Strange scene. Girls would seem to verbalize a certain PRIDE that they were icy and rude and not real, open, or genuine. One girl said. “I have had the same friends since I was five. BYE.”
That’s about it. Real cliquish Tuesday scene. I talked to a female bartender and a doorman who both said that these were rich-parent snob kids and that Georgetown is the place to be on the weekend only. Weekdays suck.
Also observed that this is the only city that I have been to where people are actually YOUNGER than you would guess. Girls I think are 24-26 are 20-21. Perhaps they are lying. But maybe all the walking in the intense sunshine day after day carrying all this pent up frustration and anger toward the world would make you age a little quicker.
I think I’ll put on a suit tomorrow and see what flies during the day.
GoneSavage, the shagadelic one.