Dive Bars

Living in a suburb of Atlanta is wonderful-you get the best of both worlds. The awesomeness that is the city of Atlanta, and the calm laziness that is the back yard and quiet neighborhood. Last night I stayed up in the ‘burbs, choosing to forgo the bright lights of Midtown and meet up with some friends at a local dive bar. Items I need to share from my experience at the dive bar in L’ville last night:

1. Evidently it is perfectly acceptable to act out the lyrics to the song “Get Low” (Lil Jon) when you’re out in public. You may also sing along to this song whilst acting it out with an individual you just met. People like this.

2. It is considered polite for a man to walk up to a woman, grunt, and say “damm girl, you fine. You gonna buy me drink?”

3. When a woman walks up to the bar to get a beer, that actually means that she wants a man to come up behind her and attempt to grind on her/feel her up. You know she’s just waiting for that.

4. When your friend is being hit on by #2 or #3, feel free to sit back and laugh hysterically rather than helping her get away from the individual.

5. In a social setting, you are welcome to improvise for the lack of a woman at your side by grabbing your pool cue and doing dirty things with it. It is super-attractive.

6. If you are a female wearing what amounts to a street-walker’s uniform, please jump up on the bar and crawl all over it while shaking your “money maker” in men’s faces. Repeat as necessary with every male who approaches you.

I don’t know folks, maybe I’m just a prude. There are things I saw last night that I want to erase from my memory for all time. I’m 31 years old and I am still shocked by people on a weekly basis-I guess I just don’t get it? Sure, my overview of the evening is my attempt to make it all lighthearted, but I can’t help but feel saddened. There’s a good reason I don’t usually go to bars-it makes me wildly uncomfortable. Probably won’t be repeating this experience…

 

Third Culture Kid

We would rather be ruined than changed;
We would rather die in our dread
Than climb the cross of the moment
And let our illusions die.
-W.H. Auden

I’m weary today. Strange how I love change and new endeavors, yet when I’m in the midst of said changes I wish I were back in my comfort zone. I guess that’s normal-wanting things to remain as they were so that uncertainty doesn’t eat us up. I’ve been debating whether or not it was a good idea to put off going overseas so I can finish my master’s. I know deep down that it was the wise choice, but now that my stress level is climbing and I’m facing two years of work/school again, I’m noticing that I think about my decision more and more. Of course, now that I’m able to really narrow-down my long-term plans, I’m also able to branch out in determining where I feel led to serve. Thinking about the Middle East as well as Africa. Having spent so much time in the Middle East (and loved every minute of it), I’d really enjoy living there for a few years.

In any case, I don’t have to decide anything right away. But still, I do think about it. Staring out the window, bustling sounds all around me, people talking about the mundane events of the day, I think about it. I remember that no matter how long I have lived here in the States, I’ve always been more comfortable overseas. People tell me it’s because I’m a third-culture kid, and I definitely agree. It’s hard not to be able to identify with people from one particular culture-I often find myself just plain confused by American culture, and that probably explains why I’m a tad socially awkward. I have a really tough time identifying with the culture that’s supposed to be mine. I guess that results in a rather “lost” feeling sometimes, and that is not a very fun feeling to have. Trust me. Que pena.