Cheers to the nerds/Buy a beer for a dude

I really like nerdy guys. If you know anything about literature, current events, history, book binding, art, insects, aeronautics, physics, etc. the chances of receiving my flirty eyes (and consequential attention and phone number) are increased by 73.5%. This has been documented. But the thing about nerds, dorks and geniuses; the chances of them approaching you are 73.5% less than the average guy.

Rocky Mountain Pizza Company is a popular Georgia Tech bar nestled right on the pizza-shaped corner of Hemphill and 10^th St. I would feel very confident in saying that Rocky may be the cheapest place to drink on a regular basis in all of Boozelanta. Pitchers of Miller High Life $5, well Whiskey on the rocks $2.50 and pizza slices start at just under $2. Keep in mind that this is everyday, all day. I’ve never really been on a Friday or Saturday night, but if you go on a sunny Tuesday or Wednesday late afternoon, the chances of finding me on the patio are very much in your favor. Any of the waitresses, Ten, Veronica, Anne or Carmen, know that I’ll be there for four or five hours, sipping on a pitcher with a South-Forty pizza slice. I love the staff there—it’s a casual environment and they’re legitimately nice people. But regrettably, the quality of young, approachable men is minimal. So grab your friends, especially while the weather is still pleasant and drink until you turn into a fish.

Checkmate,

June 

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June makes a valid point about the awesome, laid back atmosphere of Rocky Mountain, and I have found that there are often attractive and intelligent boys present, but with them comes the inability (or lack of momentum) to approach girls. Once such time, spotted: a pair of lookers at Rocky Mountain.  He and his friend had caught our eyes when they first arrived and sat at a neighboring table. Before we left, I decided to stop admiring the nerds from afar, and make something happen.  I bought him a beer, informing him with a sharpie note on the cup that I felt that he was attractive, accompanied with my number.  I heard from him a few hours later—success!  Still a work in progress, but it was admittedly a great moment in the world of S and J. 

Cheers to balls,

Salli

This is not your boss:

Go to Smiths, find old men, drink booze until you force yourself to be sick in order to survive. This is the most economically, depression friendly way to have a good time.

However, unless this is your kind of guy (potentially sketchy, bad father figures), don’t lead anybody on. You don’t want him to end up at the end of the night angry that you didn’t put out. 

Don't be stupid,

June

Beware of overly eager middle aged men

Salli and I came to the realization that the boys we were meeting seemed so young, which might not necessarily be a bad thing. We’ve both been living on our own for about five years now, have college educations and are seeking higher goals. Living with your mom, taking eight years to complete college without any career goals or possibilities, though once intriguing, was starting to become stale. We set out to meet nice young men that could maybe pay for our drinks and take us back to their beautifully decorated apartments. (Let me make a note, I personally go for the indie, outdoor guy that has his life in order, that still likes going Keroacing every so often, but this blog is about meeting different kinds of guys in different parts of town. What fun is it if we meet variations on a theme on Highland?) Hudson Grille was our first stop; it was only meant to be one drink. We sat at the bar, and watched the first game of the World Series. Our bar neighbors (resembling my passed grandfather), were very pleasant and chatty and helped us out with some trivia questions, even though we were only playing verbally and for fun. 

After some time, a gentleman approached us, followed by his timid friend that hovered behind me. The bold man had beer spilt down his front. We chatted, and then they claimed they were going to go to Mellow Mushroom next door to get some food, and invited us to join. We had fresh drinks, which was a perfect excuse to say that we may join them later. Well, after some time, we, too, decided that a pizza slice sounded pretty dang good. As we walked over, we caught the two gentlemen walking back into Hudson Grille. This was perfect! They had come back to meet us, but it seemed perfectly natural that just as we were about to head over to ‘join’ them, they were coming back! What fools would follow us back to Mellow? Well, five minutes later, they were at our backs at the bar. I was blessed to end up chatting with the slightly-less-attractive-but-a-significantly-better-personality bald timid one (alas, his alias is Baldie). Poor Salli was conversing with the pretty, but pretty drunk, one. Salli and I faked an early evening, and gave them our numbers. I, like the idiot I am, gave Baldie my real number (he was nice!), but Salli for once gave a fake number (guys, you really should pick up on the fact that 404.867.5309 is probably not a real number). 

June Bug

Have you met us? (huh?? huh?)