I'm Taking A Stand For All Married Men And Asserting My God-given Right To Talk To Women I'm Not Married To

On the evening of St. Patrick's Day, I was in a tux in a bar in a heck of a good mood. I had green Bud Lights in each hand and unlike the middle aged gentleman next to me, I still had my pants on so I was confident that I wasn't the least classy guy in the room.

And since it was St. Patrick's Day and everyone is Irish, I figured I would talk to the two women next to me about Thomas Cahill's How The Irish Saved Civilization. Chicks dig Saint Manchan of Offaly. It's a scientific fact.

So I approached the two women and said hello. It went down hill from there.

"You're married?" said female #1. She was hot in an "I’m pretty sure she's older than my mother but at least she's wearing a sleeveless shirt to show off her sexy arm fat" type of way.

"Yes," I replied.

"Then why are you talking to us?" asked female #2. Imagine if Laverne and Shirley had a daughter. Now imagine if the doctor took the infant and threw it out of a third floor window, walked down three flights of stairs, went out a back door, strolled over to the infant, poured lighter fluid on it and lit the kid on fire. And then drove a truck over the enflamed infant. And then the girl grew up and was kicked in the face by a Clydesdale. That's what this girl looked like except she was also a bad dresser.

"It's St. Patrick's Day. Just having a good time," I said.

"Your wife would be mad if she knew you were talking to us," one of the trolls said.

"No, she wouldn't," I replied as I flashed my wedding ring at the two of them.

"Well, where is she?" harpy #1 asked.

"Away on business for the night," I said, the Bud Light pumping through my veins dimming my homicidal rage.

"Then we're not talking to you," harpy #2 said, "Goodbye."

I stood there, stunned. Did this chick just say "Goodbye" to me, like she was ordering me to get out of her exalted presence? I mean I was just talking to these two fiascoes for shits and giggles; you can only talk to other dudes in tuxes for so long. I was drinking but I'm experienced enough to know when I'm sloppy, "please God, get this menace to society away from me" drunk. I wasn't quite there yet.

I wasn't doing anything wrong. I had verified that I was married. I hadn't tried to claim that my wife had perished in a tragic bullfighting accident and I just needed someone to hold me. I didn't use any cheesy lines. I didn't try to drop a roofie in their drinks. I didn't ask them what time they had to be back to their group home. I didn't ask to touch their liver spots. I thought it was obvious to everyone in the room that I wasn't trying to pick these two untouchables up- if I had wanted to hit on girls, I could have gone up to cute girls and not approached the pair of 3's standing by themselves in the corner.

I could have just walked away. I wasn't hitting on these broads. I had nothing invested in this conversation and I had a table full of free beer waiting for me just a few feet away.

But then I thought of St. Patrick. He was kidnapped and forced into slavery for six years before escaping and basically changing Irish society. He had perseverance. He had balls. He wouldn't have just walked away.

I stared into their beady, dead eyes. I took a big swig of my beer. And just stood there. Planted my feet like I was boxing out Shaq.

And smiled a one hell of a smile. The two "ladies" looked at me, unsure of what to do.

"How 'bout those NCAA's ?" I asked.

Both "women" gave me a look. It was clear that they weren't expecting me to stick around and try to get a March Madness conversation going.

F them.

"How pissed would you be if you were Jared Dudley and your senior season is wasted because Williams and McLain are idiots and get themselves booted off the team? Especially when Sean Marshall and Tyrese Rice were playing so well."

Blank stares. They had never seen this before. They had obviously thought that I would scurry away and cry myself to sleep.

F them.

"Honestly, I mean Georgetown is a solid squad but if BC had Williams they wouldn't have faced a team like the Hoyas until the Elite Eight. BC definitely would have been at least a three seed and I really think that there's a good chance that they would be a two seed with Williams and McLain. They would have had a great shot to win the ACC."

I think the line about the ACC is what finally broke them down. Maybe they were just really ugly Big Ten fans.

"We're leaving," old maid #1 said. "Yeah, bye," said old maid #2.

Ear to ear, baby.

"Whatever, get out of here. Hit the bricks, ladies." And they did.

Let this be a warning to you, single ladies of Massachusetts and the world. If a married guy comes up to you and you don't look like Jessica Alba and you're not his wife, then don't try to act like it. There's just one woman in this world who can tell me to f off and she's earned that right by putting up with my farting and Alexis Bledel obsession.

I am a married guy. Hear me roar, bitches!

Jamie Chisholm