Pet Peeve Wednesday: Bar Edition

Hello all!

It's that time of the week again where I deign you all with my weekly dose of complaining. Last week I touched on my dislike of slow walkers. This week, I bring you the bar edition of Pet-Peeve-Wednesday.

Now, I'm not what anyone would call a bar-fly. Most weekends, I am perfectly content to stay in with my Netflix account and go to bed before eleven. There's something to be said for waking up without a hangover and squirrel mouth. My wallet also enjoys not shelling out seven or eight dollars for a beer that I don't even really like, but order regardless because my knowledge of drinks doesn't stretch farther than Smirnoff and Bud Light. Sometimes, though, this newly minted legal drinker likes to hit the town.

And when I do, there is a whole host of new irritating stimuli. For example:

The Swarm of Stilettos

First off, it's the middle of winter. That skin-tight bandeau skirt you've paired your stilettos with sans tights is TOTALLY not weather appropriate. Second, you clearly do not know how to walk in them, making yourself a hazard to anyone within grabbing distance from you when you invariably trip and fall.

Men Who Can't Take A Hint

You ladies all know who I'm talking about. It's that guy who drunkenly wanders over to your table and becomes convinced that you are MFEO (made for each other, duh)-or at the very least, he is convinced he can take you home. You start off polite. Small talk. Nod and smile at the appropriate times. But then he overstays his welcome and you are left wondering how the hell you can get this guy to go away without being rude.

Overpriced Drinks

This one is sort of a no-brainer. You pay six dollars for a vodka cranberry when a handle only costs about four dollars more. Do the math. I have now made it a rule of thumb that I only buy myself one drink. Let the men who can't take a hint pick up the rest.

And last but not least...

Drunk People on Public Transportation

Okay, even I have to admit that this can sometimes be awesome. Some kid belting out Whitney Houston (RIP) in the middle of the El? Complete with rousing choreography that undoubtedly makes sense in his brain but realistically comes off as really-excited-swaying? Yeah, that happened. And it was awesome. But that person who starts ranting? Or talking REALLY LOUD for no reason. Not so awesome.

What are your bar pet peeves?