Walk away before we eat you alive!

I returned from Atlantic City just in time to greet my Chicago friend (and identical twin separated at birth) Rachel who flew in for the night. Seriously, she and I both have the same hair type (brown and curly) and length, the same body build and height, and the sacme facial bone structure (except I have the trademark Lindsay upturned pig nose). She is a leader of a tour group for Jewish kids going to Israel for 10 days. She had to be at the airport the next morning at 9:30am the organize the kids, so she decided to fly in the night before to A) get a better nights rest, and B) come visit me like she had promised. Well her flight was delayed so the evening started later than anticipated. Actually, she was running late in Chicago and needed to print off some logistical information for the trip. Well the internet café around the corner from me had an all idiot staff. Seriously, the computer kept kicking us out of the system even though we had paid for 15 minutes of internet. Then it did not print her items or attempted to eat the pages that went through. We kept asking the guys working questions and they were both computer illiterate and English illiterate. Okay I know that is horrible, but these guys did not understand what we were saying and understood even less about the computers in their internet café. They should just advertise as coffee shop since they thought a computer was a television set. Anyway, after getting nowhere fast at the crappy internet café, we started hitting local hotels. The young guys at the Times Square Hilton were ready to let us use their front desk computer (after a generous about of flirting on our end) before the appearance of their manager made them reconsider. They were sympathetic enough to let us into their business center even though it was after hours and we were not guests of their hotel. Awwwhhh, they get two gold stars for being nice and helpful.

After the internet/printer ordeal, we were in need of a good beer. At Rachel’s request, I took her to the local haunt Rudy’s. Not only can you get $9 domestic pitchers, but you can get hot dogs (well I have yet to try them, but I have seen plenty of drunk people happily eating them). While catching up over a beer, we were approached by a short fast talking guy. He quickly asked us “well I need your expert girl opinion on this, see my guy friend talks to his girl friend, no wait he still talks to his ex girl friend but his current girl friend is upset and he thinks, no wait she thinks he should stop, and…” Okay I had enough of the verbal vomit he was trying to pass off as conversation. I interrupted his aimless question with “you happen to read the Neil Strauss book?” Yep, that stopped him dead in his tracks. He was butchering one of the classic pick up lines in the book “The Game”. He admitted that he was trying to engage us in conversation, and I felt quite proud in being able to totally catch him in the act (especially since he was mucking up his approach). He was pretty awe struck but did not get the hint. He kept going on about how he saw us and decided that we were going to be his target and he could just tell we were great girls. He even told his friends he was going to pick us up. We asked him to point out his friends in hopes that he would take his crashing and burning self back to them. It was not until Rachel stopped him to say “well it was nice meeting you” and we both turned out backs on him before he realized we no longer wanted to talk to him. Give him points for courage because he still had the balls to ask us for our names (to which I said “you don’t actually think you are going to get them that easily”). Later Rachel and I discussed creating fake names and occupations. I would be Nikki (said Nikki with an ‘I’) who is a hair dresser.