D.C. Folley — What NOT To Do While Sarging

**Reposted from the first Lair, original date: 12/24/03

Okay, now I remember why I hate D.C.  Its not just the fact that I don’t have a car, or the fact that my parents plan my days for me like I’m a fuckin’ first grader, rather, it’s that it is very hard to sarge here.

D.C. has some of the worst traffic in the world, I swear to god.  I get to places FASTER in LA, and the traffic there is terrible too.  But at least we got 5 LANES of terrible traffic as opposed to 2 or often times 1, in D.C.’s case.  I tell you, I must be spoiled, because the quality of women in this town isn’t exactly what I’d call “prime.”  Of course, I am used to LA quality chicks, which are usually the best and hottest from all over the world.  But even I expected better women in D.C.  There was a post on the D.C. list a while back discussing whether there were any pretty women in this town, and I gotta say, I’m inclined to say NO! (If there are good ones here, they must be hiding).  Now I see why ol’ Bill went for Monica.  On the D.C. scale, that bitch is a fuckin’ 10.

So I wake up at 3:00 in the fuckin’ afternoon out here.  Keep in mind, my schedule is still on LA time, which is 3 hours early, so it’d be a ripe old noon in my home town.  However, I wanted to go out Christmas shopping today, so it was necessary to wake up early and beat the crowd.  I ask my dad to wake me up so I can get ready and have enough time to shop.  Of course, my dad’s idea of waking people up is flipping the light switch on and off.  He tried to wake me up twice with this tactic, however MY EYES WERE FUCKING SHUT! So of course, I was oblivious to the wake-up call.

Anyway, I get up and get ready to go out, so by the time I’m set, its time to go to dinner.  My family has a tradition about going out to eat on the 23rd of every December, so we go to a Steakhouse.  While there, the ONLY woman other than my mother is some warpig waitress that the drunken Mexican landscapers that descended upon this establishment are going after like she’s the only woman they’ve seen since jumping out of the van.  Of course, she’s loving it, but I’m forced to sit and talk to my family for lack of better targets (I’m still trying to come up with a decent system for restaurant sarging.  If anyone has any good tactics, please post them here).

After dinner, me and my brothers go out to the Pentagon City Mall to do our typical last minute shopping.  While there, we spilt up and go our separate ways, which is great because I finally get the chance to do some sarging.  However, its not meant to be.

About 80% of the women I run into are either fat, black, or a combination of the two.  Now, I have nothing against black chicks, but I just don’t go for them.  Same with fat chicks.  The women I do find that are worth sarging are of an average age of 15.  FIFTEEN!!!!  I feel like the biggest fucking perv in the world after I open a girl and her mother comes up to remind her that she can’t choose too many presents because she’s getting a car for her 16th birthday.

So I go about my shopping feeling like a dirty old man at the ripe ol’ age of 25.  It reminds me of why I prefer bars and clubs, at least there you know you’re in the ballpark.  And I start thinking about what I’d do if I WAS successful and picking a girl up.  My little brother drove me here.  I’m staying at my parent’s house.  I have no money.  The whole situation just does not bode well.

So I spend about $300 on gifts and go home pissed that its another night of my vacation wasted.  I was also informed that we’re visiting my grandparents for three days after Christmas, and even though it will be nice to see them, I am screaming on the inside because of the simple fact I am in LIMBO LAND!  Sure, there’s not stress or worries, but there is also no fun either.  Ugg!

I better get some good gifts this year, or I might end up killing somebody.

Thundercat