high heels

A giraffe walks into a bar

So what happens when a giraffe walks into a bar with a group of friends adorned in glitter, angel wings, and a wedding dress covered in blood? I guess you just had to be there…

I took a trip back to my previous home, Eskilstuna, for a Halloween party. To my own surprise I had a lot of motivation to actually be in costume and do something. It helps that my friends actually asked me out. As I pondered for days over what I could be, I reflected on my past costumes and how they have always been so innocent and not death-related.

I was a bunny, a clown, an M&M, a dark faerie, a light faerie, North Star, Peter Pan, among other things. So needless to say when I was looking through online costumes the first few things that popped out to me were turtle, giraffe, and hippo. All so cute. I chose to be tall and proud.

Photo Courtesy of Ywon Bar & Grill Instagram

So this photo actually was taken by a friend of mine that works at the Ywon Bar & Grill because, well other than the fact that were were the few people there, it was surreal. A drink in a mans hand while he stands more than 190cm tall thanks to heels and a double head, clothed in a onesie is bound to draw attention. It’s proof that I was social and actually connected to someone (rare as it may be).

And there he stood, for at least 1,5 to 2 hours talking to a stranger that was sitting at the bar. It was my friends that pushed me into this situation so I just went along with it. Drinks were shared, informal and personal topics discussed and the whole time I was thinking, “why did my friend push me onto this guy?” I mean he was a 39-year-old punk loving hipster with non-matching socks. Totally not someone to whom I would normally find myself talking, let alone with whom I would be flirting.

It didn’t actually occur to me that my behaviour or his behaviour would have be considered flirting, and given my clueless history of people hitting on me, in retrospect I wonder. He did offer me a drink and shared his own with me. He did continue the conversation and asked questions. It didn’t even think about flirtation until he made a comment about a ring on my finger and asked if I was married. I remembered stopping, looking at him and formulating an answer. And even after that, I still had my doubts. Everyone that knows me, knows that I would never make a move. It seemed safe, but there is always some obliviousness that prevents me.

We joined the group after a long time and he bought everyone a round. It was very generous and I was definitely feeling warm fuzzies, despite the sinking feeling and my doubts about his intentions or interest. And then a casual comment was dropped, and I thought “AHA I knew it!” and I felt vindicated that I was right. We all departed and he even asked me for a hug and mentioned how genuinely good of a time he had. It made me smile and I drunkenly stumbled out the bar.

Between the double cab rides and walking through town, not much of me being a giraffe was noticed or said until the evening ended. We walked down the bar street and suddenly drunk adults approached us. One harassed me, then started crying because she felt bad. A guy named Andreas felt the need to talk to me about how he can tell if people are gay by the shape of their eyes (I think he was too drunk to notice that I had huge heels on).

My friend departed and I walked down the street, fearing for my life, as my previous lone-walking home experiences in Eskilstuna resulted in being chased, harassed, or otherwise accosted in some way. But instead I was complimented by women and men alike. Even two women approached me for a photo and wanted a hug to say I was so fabulous. Their costumes were lame, like wearing bunny ears and a slutty dress lame.

And so I got back to my hotel, laid down and hoped to sleep and awake to have a delicious breakfast. Even after all that happened I still think back and wonder… What if I had said something, or did something, or did I come off as a frozen cold bitch that I feel I am? The jury is out, but at least I had fun.

No dice, just no dice!

So I went out with yee olde friends tonight and well let’s just say it wasn’t so great; probably because I wasn’t planning on going out.

We went over to da Yorkie’s house and we just had some social moments, and then staggered over to El Pubo. I write this after returning because I really do need some venting. I have several things to say. The first of which includes my amazing meeting with black eyeshadow that can be used as eye-liner but is less obvious! Who knew?

Thanks to Rosheen I became a pro in 30 seconds flat, and even did my own better than her. Yes, our awesome friendship has come to the point where we share tips on beauty; or lack-there-of in my case. In any case I just wasn’t feeling the pub tonight; whether it be the music or just anything else it wasn’t my thing. I saw seventeen year olds there too; uhm how?! Anyways.

I got my ass kicked, and I mean that both a literal and a figurative way. In other words people were so agressively bitchy tonight that I just was being roughed up left right and centre. At one point I just wanted to flail around and push people away; but I held it together by screaming out “BITCH” at the top of my lungs and staggering around, not even in a drunken way.

One drink tonight didn’t do it for me, but it’s just as well because it would’ve been worse. I saw someone give someone else a piggy back; I think they were eyeing me whilst I was at the coat check. You know how I get away from weird situations like that? I stare at the ceiling because quite frankly there ain’t nobody good enough to take me home; seriously.

Or something like that.

I really just want to curl up and watch a film with a friend; but in a completely non-subjective way I’m saying this: nobody else fits on my bed. I’m not fat, but my friends certainly aren’t skinny, so there isn’t really good methodolgy of sharing a movie watching area in ma boudoire! Anyways, for anyone that is being remarked by this; I’m taking applications as of… five years ago. Nuff said.

Other random rant: Crystal what the hell is with wearing heels to the pub (by the way; heels that I can wear 10x better than you), and then taking them off, hiding them behind the door and walking around in bare-feet? There are rules against that because of glass and such; and guess what? She got cut, and then I got ditched by 5 people and was left stranded around girls falling, men having erection problems, and creepy people harrassing me.

I will fend them off with… eyeliner, and blush; or something.

End rant, and goodnight, or whatever. My life is so struggling right now it’s depressing, or something! :yawn: