sailor

On Sunday night, I went out to a bar in Manhattan with a friend. It was Fleet Week, I had been loudly proclaiming my intention to kiss a sailor before the end of the weekend, and there were sailors inside the bar, so the atmosphere felt a little giddy to me. I found a lonely sailor named Carlo. He was stationed on a boat docked on the west side. He was Guatemalan and had family in New York. From him I learned that the all-white uniforms with button-up shirts would be replaced with the navy pants/khaki shirt combo in November, but that the dress uniforms (Sailor Moon outfits with neckerchiefs and the navy blue-outlined cape-collar) would be unchanged. He let me try on his hat.

He bought me a Budweiser. We chatted a bit, danced a bit, and kissed a bit. He had nice muscles, which I gripped with great fervor as we danced. He kept saying that he didn't know how to dance to this kind of music. (It was hipster rock.) I said, Because you prefer Latin dancing? several times, because he couldn't hear me. I could barely hear him.

My friend found the sailor's friend and danced with him. She also scored a few photos with the sailor hat and an indiscreet peck on the lips. Our sailors chatted with other girls, but there was no jealousy or competition because sailors during Fleet Week are the silliest thing to compete for. We urged them to have fun with the rest of the week as they traveled on to the next bar.

My friend and I continued dancing. A girl introduced herself and said that she had gone to our law school but had graduated a year later. She introduced us to the rest of her friends, and we danced near each other, but not together, for a song. Meeting people in a bar makes it less scary and less loud, which I appreciate.

I saw two young hipsters dancing nearby - they were male and female, but they looked queer rather than heterosexual - so I thought I would extend the bonhomie to them as well. I had been mulling over pick-up lines for most of the evening, and I decided to try them out on the young hipsters. I approached the boy first and said, Hey, that's the worst sailor costume I've ever seen! He said, What? because he hadn't heard me.

We were bouncing in synch with the awful music. I said, I said that's the worst sailor costume I've ever seen! He said nothing and his friend interceded. What did you say? she said.

I said, I said, you guys have the worst sailor costumes I've ever seen!

She rolled her eyes in disgust and yelled, We're not sailors!

And then they moved away from me on the dance floor.

I probably should have said best, not worst, sailor costumes. But who takes such an obvious extension of friendliness as mine literally?

I hate them.