A different kind of bad

I've been complaining about the guys around DC. It seems as though the majority of them never received training on how to treat a lady. I'm used to Southern boys - the kind who will hold open a door for you. Since moving here, I've had quite a few doors slam in my face.

While at a party in Baton Rouge for Christmas (Yes, I know it is the end of February - I'm just REALLY far behind), I talked about my recent dating experiences. My friend Carolyn was quick to remind me that the guys down there weren't much better. "They're just a different kind of bad." Almost as if to prove her point, a member of the male species approached us - blatantly staring at our chests. His gaze fixed, he commented, "WOO WEE! Talk about a tough job... I would HATE to be the judge of THIS wet t-shirt contest."

Susan asked him what he did for a living to which he replied (and this is a DIRECT quote), "I sell raccoon meat to black people for $300." Yeah. I'm not sure how much raccoon meat you get for $300, but I wasn't about to ask. Besides, I'm sure that's just a part-time gig until he can nail down that job as a wet t-shirt contest judge.

Charming, eh? I bet you he would have held open the door for me though...