A good friend and I went out tonight and hung out in the Short North in Columbus for awhile. It is August 1st, and every first Saturday of the month is what they call “The Gallery Hop”. It is a pretty cool. All of the stores are open late and you have a variety of entertainers on the sidewalks as well as businesses selling their stuff. The restaurants are packed and the bars are slammed with people. Tonight we were lucky to have good weather. Saw break dancers, singers, bands, and a host of other things.
Also, this is the night all of the beautiful people come out. I am not exactly where they all come from, but on these kinds of evenings thousands of ho-bags come out. You know, the ones that are of supreme hot quality wearing almost nothing except you will never, ever have a chance with. Now, whether or not you would even want to is another issue that I will get to in a minute. But they are accompanied by some hapless young individual, perhaps of the guido persuasion, the prep frat boy persuasion, the angst filled artist persuasion, or some combination of the above. Other times they are in groups of five to ten. If you have ever gone out, you probably have some idea of what I am talking about.
For a while, I have often asked myself, what do these particular guys have that I lack? And this has been a question I have wrestled with for the longest time. Until tonight.
It suddenly dawned on me: I don’t give a shit. I simply do not give a shit. I can never be those guys, and certainly those guys could NEVER measure up to me. The Mang is a multifaceted being and he operates on a number of different levels. And while I find it hilarious that three different people tonight came up to me and said they were looking for “some bitches” (since they were too damn drunk to figure out Sugar was half a block away on the left), I know I can never actually go down to that kind of level. Chances are those guys will get damn lucky, and I wish them the best.
What I look for in a girl is not what I saw tonight, and though with all of the short skirts, the long hair, and the stilettos, I know deep down I’d be after only one thing, because nothing else is there. And given the kinds of attitudes that come with these particular kinds of women, I’m not sure I could actually tolerate their mouths to actually spend a single evening. Well, check that, maybe I could. The Mang, while multifaceted, is also human. Certainly, being the eligible bachelor that he is (who also speaks in the third person), who is he to turn down a good time if a good time is to be had?
I guess the question that needs to be asked is: would you want to trade places with any of these people? A tough question, it does need to be asked. But my answer would have to be no. As with a lot of things, the idea of it is probably a lot better than the reality of it. While the lifestyle seems attractive, there are a lot of problems that come with it. If anything, I’d prefer profiting off the nightlife scene than living it every single weekend like a lot of these people do.
This is also known as “the grass always seems greener on the other side”. This article is not to knock the weekend scene, because I do enjoy going out. And who am I to knock the hustle of someone else? Merely, this is just a declaration that the Mang is unique and cannot be measured against others. That is a reality I can live with.
The Mang
Also, this is the night all of the beautiful people come out. I am not exactly where they all come from, but on these kinds of evenings thousands of ho-bags come out. You know, the ones that are of supreme hot quality wearing almost nothing except you will never, ever have a chance with. Now, whether or not you would even want to is another issue that I will get to in a minute. But they are accompanied by some hapless young individual, perhaps of the guido persuasion, the prep frat boy persuasion, the angst filled artist persuasion, or some combination of the above. Other times they are in groups of five to ten. If you have ever gone out, you probably have some idea of what I am talking about.
For a while, I have often asked myself, what do these particular guys have that I lack? And this has been a question I have wrestled with for the longest time. Until tonight.
It suddenly dawned on me: I don’t give a shit. I simply do not give a shit. I can never be those guys, and certainly those guys could NEVER measure up to me. The Mang is a multifaceted being and he operates on a number of different levels. And while I find it hilarious that three different people tonight came up to me and said they were looking for “some bitches” (since they were too damn drunk to figure out Sugar was half a block away on the left), I know I can never actually go down to that kind of level. Chances are those guys will get damn lucky, and I wish them the best.
What I look for in a girl is not what I saw tonight, and though with all of the short skirts, the long hair, and the stilettos, I know deep down I’d be after only one thing, because nothing else is there. And given the kinds of attitudes that come with these particular kinds of women, I’m not sure I could actually tolerate their mouths to actually spend a single evening. Well, check that, maybe I could. The Mang, while multifaceted, is also human. Certainly, being the eligible bachelor that he is (who also speaks in the third person), who is he to turn down a good time if a good time is to be had?
I guess the question that needs to be asked is: would you want to trade places with any of these people? A tough question, it does need to be asked. But my answer would have to be no. As with a lot of things, the idea of it is probably a lot better than the reality of it. While the lifestyle seems attractive, there are a lot of problems that come with it. If anything, I’d prefer profiting off the nightlife scene than living it every single weekend like a lot of these people do.
This is also known as “the grass always seems greener on the other side”. This article is not to knock the weekend scene, because I do enjoy going out. And who am I to knock the hustle of someone else? Merely, this is just a declaration that the Mang is unique and cannot be measured against others. That is a reality I can live with.
The Mang
Conservative Capo of Youngstown
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