After working in the Dallas world of advertising for the past few years, I've had the privilege of frequenting some of the swankiest hotels, bars and restaurants in Dallas. You could say I lead a pretty charmed life. This past Friday I decided to share some of my favorite super-swank spots with a friend who up until now hasn't had much of a reason to check them out.
The evening was a HILARIOUS DISASTER pretty much from start to finish. Basically, it was a typical night in the pretentious Dallas scene.
We started out getting turned down entry into an overrated bar atop a hotel due to a fashion show. After not making "the list" we headed over to a new underground lounge where our shoes were insulted (I personally see nothing wrong with short dresses and gladiator sandals, but what do I know?! I mean, I did miss the fashion show at the earlier locale...) After making it in to this new prestigious establishment (in flats, thank you very much!) we headed downstairs, then upstairs to the rooftop pool where a tray of drinks was spilled on us. An entire tray. On the behind of my white dress... DISASTER! We weren't offered comp drinks or anything, so we promptly left and had to wait about 8 minutes for an elevator in what seemed to be an un-air conditioned hallway.
Finally we made it over to my favorite Dallas hotel/bar for some good times and great drinks at the Dragonfly. After enjoying a famed white cosmo and chatting with our surrounding company, it seemed that the evening was looking up!
As we left we decided to make one last stop at The Ritz on the way home. Now I LOVE the Ritz... It's everything I usually want in a bar. Great decor, great atmosphere, great everything. Until Sir Upton came over. Mr. Upton, a gentleman (read: d-bag) in his mid-30s (at the youngest)came up and sat thigh to thigh with me. If nothing else, he was probably good for a beverage, and I felt that his immediate forced intimacy owed me that much. (I feel like you should be aware that as soon as he sat down I scooted away from him... I was having NONE OF THAT!)
After several minutes of small talk (and a couple of suggestive comments... he thought that he and I would actually happen.... HA!!!), Mr. Upton asked us what he could get us to drink. Being at the Ritz, and offered a drink by someone who could afford it, I certainly HAD to have some champagne, at least he certainly owed us that much. (To give you an idea of the extent of inebriation we're talking, Sir had forgotten what we were ordering by the time he got to the bar.) This should have been when we left, but we stayed because let's be honest, I just wanted some free champagne at the Ritz. I am that classy.
Anyhow, Mr. Upton's ridiculousness just increased and after some suggestive comments. After a hand on the leg, I politely told Mr. Upton that the evening he wanted was not happening, that he needed to "phone a friend" because he was drunk, and that his shirt was unbuttoned at the bottom and his stomach was hanging out. My friend and I left, no harm, no foul, and a sip or two of champagne the wiser.
So moral of the story (and the educational part of this blog) is that the $20 glass of champagne I had was not worth the cost of the time wasted with my new gentleman "friend". Upon leaving I realized that I was embarrassed to have tolerated this letch's behavior for as long as I did, and the lesson of "there's no such thing as a free lunch" (or drink)was yet again reinforced. Note to self: if a man sits next to you with shirt unbuttoned from the bottom, hairy stomach showing, drunk as a skunk, it is not the time to use manners. Instead, leave immediately. Otherwise, you'll regret (yet laugh hysterically) about it for days to come! Also, welcome to the Dallas Scene. Gentlemen aplenty!
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