Bar Epiphany x2

by thefeargirls

 By Sophia Rowland

I think the bar is a place of epiphany. Seriously. I think I’ve had several epiphanies at bars, though usually along the lines of:
“14 shots of tequila is too much tequila.”

The other day I was at the bar with some friends from high school. The bar in question is actually one of my new faves. Discovered by Caitlin, it requires a secret password to get in, and the interior is much like the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland … you know, when you’re waiting in line to get on your boat. But I digress.

I was at the bar with four friends from high school, making us an awesome five. I pointed out to my friend Elynn that I thought the bartender was cute. By saying so I then entered the stage of prodding that I like to call ‘Go and talk to him.’ This stage happens to me a lot. I say someone is cute, and then I choose not to talk to them. Call it shyness, a fear of rejection, or a realization that meeting people in bars is dumb.

The five of us sat in a booth in the back of the bar and proceeded to drink and be merry. Unfortunately, the bartender appeared nearby collecting empty glasses and my friend Elynn called him over. She had apparently gathered his name (Brian), being friendly as she is. Then the conversation went down as follows:

ELYNN:  Hey Brian. So I want to introduce you to my friend Sophia.
ME:  Oh god.
ELYNN:   Sophia is currently leading the modern feminist revolution AND she works at a known department store.

long pause

BRIAN:  Umm. I was just looking for empty glasses?
ME:  It’s okay, you can go.

exit Brian stage left

One of my friends was on the floor laughing, while another said half-heartedly, “Aw that was a good introduction.” My response was “I wouldn’t have even lead with the department store.”

I was about 20% mortified, and 80% amused. Though normally it doesn’t take much to mortify me, this didn’t bother me much at all. For the rest of the night, I wondered why it didn’t seem to have a usual effect. Was it because Elynn was well intentioned? I know she was. And it was actually pretty funny. Or was it because what she said was (mostly) true? I am the leader of a modern feminist blog (though by no means leading the revolution), and I do work at said known department store. But knowing just those two things about me terrified poor barista Brian. Or maybe it was just the obvious confrontation that scared him. But for the sake of this piece, let’s assume it wasn’t.

Two epiphanies took place that evening after we left the bar, proceeded to drink cheaper store-bought booze out of Coke bottles outside, and then proceeded to another bar to drink more, only to finally end up at IHOP. Three epiphanies if you count my recurring epiphany of “Alcohol makes me nauseous I need to stick to my two drink limit.” But I digress.

The first was about said department store. The epiphany: I need to get a new job. And by new, I mean better. That epiphany has been growing for a while (see previous article about cosmetics counter). A job that actually utilizes my ability to write would be nice, though the department store has been serving its purpose in getting me the moneys.

The second was more complex. I’ve written about men and feminism, but not exactly about men and feminism and me. The word feminism can be scary for guys, because the meaning of the word really depends on whoever is saying it. When I say feminism, I mean that I believe everyone should be treated equally, and that I find women are deeply misrepresented and misguided in this society. But even if I had said that, bartender Brian would have probably backed away slowly in fear. Coincidently, my epiphany was that I’m actually really okay with that.

When I meet people now who are potential mates (for lack of a better word), if they’re not interesting, if all it is is a physical connection, I lose interest…quickly. I think it’s important to be who I am and not compromise. I’ve done that in varying degrees with almost everyone I’ve been with seriously, and it sucks. Because at the end of the day, I just end up resenting what they liked: science, comic books, boxing…

I’m twenty-two and inching towards twenty-three. And although that means I have lots of time to make mistakes, I still don’t want to waste my time pretending to be anything that I’m not.
My name is Sophia Rowland. I am currently leading a modern feminist blog and I work in a department store folding sweaters…though I’m looking to change that soon.