The party was out of my league. For the champagne girl, it was likely beneath her. Even though I knew this, I still approached her and struck up a conversation. In retrospect, I should have seen the car wreck coming 100 miles away, but there is something about beer guys like me not being able to resist champagne girls. I left with her phone number and a date for the next week.
The problem with dating a champagne girl is that I always feel that I have to move up to her level, but since that level is usually way out of my financial league, I pretend by moving up a few levels closer than where I really am. This just makes the disaster all the more complete because I assume that since I’ve made an effort, the champagne girl will also make the effort and meet me half way and lower her level. It never happens. Champagne girls don’t compromise like that.
I should have just taken her to the local Chilis. She would have hated it, but she would have hated it for a whole lot less money. Instead, I picked a nice restaurant several levels above where I would normally go to.
It was obvious that she wasn’t impressed with my restaurant choice from the start. I saw the signs, and I should have just called it off right then and there. Instead, we ordered. She picked the most expensive appetizer to be followed by the most expensive entree on the menu. She crinkled her face when I ordered a wine that didn’t come to three figures even though it was worth enough cases of beer to last me several months.
When the appetizer arrived, she didn’t touch it. She continued with smalltalk and I noticed that she hadn’t touched her wine as well. When the waiter arrived with the main dish to see the appetizer hadn’t been touched, you could see the look of concern on his face:
“Is everything all right?” he questioned.
“Yes, perfect,” she smiled. “I’m finished, thank you,” and handed him the untouched plate to take back and throw away.
The main meal progressed the same way. She chatted lightly but the food never left the plate. The waiter raised his eyebrow again at the untouched plate. “Is there something wrong with the meal?” he questioned again.
“No, everything was wonderful. I’m finished, thank you,” she said indicating he could take her plate away.
That’s when I couldn’t hold it back any longer and said, “could you please wrap the meal so we can take it home.”
You would have thought I was clubbing baby seals right in front of her from the look she shot at me. “No, there is no need for that,” she said back to the waiter.
“Yes, there is a need for that,” I said. “We’d like it to go.” Her look indicated that I was not only clubbing baby seals, but also chopping off the feet of baby bunny rabbits to make good luck charms.
“No, that really won’t be necessary,” she said in a firm voice.
“Oh, yes it will be,” I replied. “If she doesn’t want it, then I will eat it. Thank you.”
As the waiter left, champagne girl was not at all happy with me. “That was my meal. If you insist on taking that meal out of this restaurant, then this date is over,” she stated as if this was even an issue at this point.
“I think that has already been well established,” I said. When the waiter returned with the meal, champagne girl said she wanted to be taken home right away.
“You can leave anytime you want. I’m sure the front desk can get you a taxi.”
Champagne girl stuttered. “But I don’t have any money on me.”
I pushed her wrapped meal in front of her. “Well, then you may want to eat this so you have enough energy to walk home” I said and left.
I later learned that I failed the champagne girl money test. Apparently, one way that champagne girls determine whether you have enough money to date them is to order the most expensive meal on the menu and not touch it. If the guy makes any mention about it, then he doesn’t have enough money to date them. Lesson learned.
Over the years, I’ve learned that I’m a beer guy and realizing that has saved me a ton of money. I’d love to be suave and have a ton of money so that I could sweep champagne girls off their feet, but I know that even if I do become wealthy in the future, I’ll still be a beer guy. It took a long time, but I’ve realized trying to be something I’m not is a great way for me to spend a lot of money achieving nothing. I can accept who I am even if it isn’t the perfect TV image I’d like and this has allowed me to conquer one of the most expensive habits that I ever had — trying to make myself appear better in other people’s eyes than I really am.
Now if you know a champagne girl that enjoys BBQ wings and beer, let me know so I can get her my number.
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Beer Guy is finally getting his finances in order after spending far too much money chasing champagne girls over the last few years.
(Photo courtesy of Tom Williamson)