By Jack Elliot
PDA. It doesn’t look so bad when you read it- just three simple letters minding their own business, respectfully keeping their appendages to themselves, and not really doing anything to disturb you. But when these letters are taken off the page and are brought into reality, they can get ugly real fast, as I’m sure you can attest.
Unfortunately, witnessing and putting up with large amounts of PDA on an almost day-to-day basis is one of the more negative aspects of a bartending job. Which leads me to the question: why do people, or should I say, “sloppy drunks,” choose to engage in these public displays of affection?
Is it to 1) show off how hot and steamy their relationship is?
Is it to 2) make you writhe with jealousy?
Is it because 3) their unbridled love is so passionate that it cannot wait till later on?
Or is it because 4) they are wasted and aren’t really thinking about the world outside of them?
Where does this desire to distastefully exhibit your love to the world around you stem from?
In response to question 1, if a couple is engaging in PDA to show how hot and steamy their relationship is, they have many, many issues. First off, if there relationship is so hot and steamy, there really shouldn’t have been any reason for them to leave their room to start with. And in addition, if the couple would rather make out and grope each other instead of having conversation and enjoying each other’s company, it probably follows that they don’t have a lot of things to say to each other and are more than likely relying on lust to keep their relationship going. Click here to read more…
By Nicholas Lynn
When I think of the term “getting stood up” I instantly picture a single female, sitting alone in a restaurant at a dining table, awaiting the arrival of some male who committed to meeting her there with the promise of a good time (and a potential marriage no doubt) who never actually makes an appearance. Click here to read more…
By Jack Elliot
It’s your safe little bubble against the outside world. It’s your haven from strangers around you. It’s your zone. It’s your sanctuary. It’s personal space. Click here to read more…
By Jack Elliot
“Hey, I’m at the bar with the guys, do you want to meet up with us for happy hour?” he texts, while sitting at the bar just after ordering his first drink. “Sure, I’ll be there in a little, just give me a few minutes to get ready,” she texts back.
My close encounter with Gayle King is an in-flight tale.
Four years ago, I wrote a book on dating and mating titled: Don’t Use My Sweater Like a Towel.
Despite the blunt title, the book is ultimately a non-fiction story about: life, love, human nature and, most important, respect. The man who inspired the rather raunchy title died tragically and in an untimely manner just as the book was being about to be published.
Ironically, he died as a result of not respecting himself. His death was beyond sad.
To this very day it’s a life changer for me. Click here to read more…
The Bachelor Pad has a “Kissing Contest.”
Has reality TV gone to far?
I was pretty grossed out as I watched this last night!
Yuck, really Natalie, really?
#2 Natalie – “I’m pretty confident that I can win this contest because I’m not scared to kiss all the boys. I would like make-out with everyone in the house for like twenty bucks.”
What do you think is this pushing the “I may get a giant herpe on my face” a bit far to win $250,00.00?
…And would you?
Bachelor Pad – Kissing Contest (Girls)
Jenny, Jenny, who can I turn to?
You give me something I can hold onto
I know you think I’m like the others before
Who saw your name and number on the wall
-Jenny/867-5309 Tommy Tutone
By Jack Elliot
The walls of the underground bar are chalkboard, completely blank- great areas of empty space waiting to be filled with aphorisms, insights, pictures, lists, portraits, messages, games of tic-tac-toe and hangman- blank canvases for any customer who desires to leave his or her mark. As a denizen of this chic new speakeasy-esque bar, I have had a great deal of time to observe the scrawlings, etchings, and musings of the public who stumble in and out on a regular basis. Being located in the heart of Santa Monica, a place often celebrated for its art and culture, wouldn’t one expect nothing but prolific eloquence, beauty, and perhaps even avant-garde cubism to sprout unendingly across the walls, as a testament to the brilliance of the city’s collective mind?
Alas, this does not seem to be the case. Since the walls are cleaned everyday by the bar staff, I have had the chance to witness the limitless potential of the chalkboards’ blank space become riddled with an onslaught of banal commentary (i.e. for free ASS call 867-5309) mammary glands, and most of all, phallic symbols- which only become more obscene and ubiquitous as the late night hours pile on and on. Although there’s the occasional inspirational quote or drawing peppered here and there (Tommy Tutone lyrics aside), by nine o’clock on a Saturday (needless to say, this is after the public has finished making love to their tonic and gin) these quotes are usually wiped out of existence by the myriad giant scrotum superimposed over them. Which then begs the question: Santa Monica, what is on your mind?
Should these scrawlings be considered a celebration of our nation’s sexual liberation? Should we laud and praise (perhaps even worship?) the phallic symbols- as a testament to the shedding of our puritanical values? Or rather, should we sympathize, commiserate, and buy rounds of drinks for these tortured artists, desperately trying to communicate the feelings of their most secret hearts? Or perhaps we should be alarmed, and interpret the caveman like etchings as a sign of the juvenile stagnation and arrested development of our nation’s collective imagination? Or should we just join in the fun and add hairs to the various genitalia, in an attempt to at least add some realism to the work (for artistic credibility, of course).
Regardless of the reasons behind and the interpretations of the artwork, one thing is clear: it is not an insignificant amount of the general drinking age public that still stands in pubescent-like fascination of the birds and the bees. Sigmund Freud, next rounds on you. And could some turn up that Tommy Tutone?
(Insert the sound of crackling old radio here.) You never know what will be spawned from just one simple question. And that’s exactly what evolved from Two Women, Two Cities, One Question. We have decided to do a follow-up, a highlight reel of sorts, from our freshly sharpened pencil and Lois Lane style reporting on dating and mating straight from the street. It is here where we will highlight some of the conversations spawned.
By David Wygant
What’s up with some people and how they break up with someone? Recently, a friend of mine emailed me and said, “My girlfriend broke up with me the other day via email.”
As someone who has been dating on the internet since before dating on the internet was the thing to do I can honestly say that things have come a long way. There are dating sites to meet millionaires, people of the same religious background and even the most “beautiful” people in the world. Actually you can even meet people to have an affair with. In addition to dating sites people can even use social networking sites like Twitter or Facebook to meet and date people (I admit it, I have done it). So yeah, it’s safe to say it’s fairly easy to meet someone.