It’s a glorious day, everyone. Eddie finally wrote down his take on the pub crawl. WIthout further ado...

This past Saturday was was another botched night of trying to engage members of the opposite sex. For starters I don’t think either of us realized this was a Harry Potter themed pub crawl. Now when I was a kid I read a couple of these books… They represent a rather whimsical and entertaining example of children’s literature. But I emphasis CHILDREN’S. Quite frankly to see grown ass adults dressing up as children’s books characters is a bit frustrating for me. On the other hand this is a free country, and the Harry Potter people appeared to be having a good time. I will admit that did warm my heart. We witnessed many a hobgoblin, ogre, witch, or sweater vested hipster (SIC) having a good time

However let us stop right there, and get back to the main reason we are going out — to meet people. Wizards and fantasy creatures just so happen to rank quite high on the hierarchy of barriers-to-procreation (I.E. cockblock)… Right up there with mullets, missing teeth, body odor, and male ponytails. Now this begs to the questions…. Are these fantasy aficionados turned off by their own nerdiness? This is a question that I have been grappling with since we went on this faithful pub crawl. To help answer this question I did some research to find out if skunks were repelled by their own smell. Quickly I found the answer… an unequivocal yes… Skunks do indeed hate the smell of getting sprayed by other skunks. Surely if this is the case we can draw the parallel that a female human dressed up as a Harry Potter character is going to be turned off by a male dressed up as a Harry Potter character. So I do believe that this Harry Potter themed pubcrawl represented a real dead end when it comes to getting laid.

The upside was that, included with every ticket, was a Dale’s Pale Ale and a shot of Genuine Hanger One whiskey. Since Nicole didn’t want to drink anything made by a guy named Dale she bequeathed me her beer. Some witches handed me their shots. I was as a happy as any Jew could be with over $25 in free beverages. While all this was going on Nicole began to strike up a conversation with some dude next to her. Listening to this guy talk was like listening to the dial tone on a phone. Remember when phones still had those? He was as boring as Steve Hawking at a triathlon. He talked about his favorite Netflix shows until I had to down several of the Hanger 1 shots to prevent myself from falling asleep. Alas the shitbird flew off into the sunset without so much as asking Nicole for her phone number. That was the one favor he did us. The rest of the night went by in a blur of drunken witches, and turned off normal people. Overall it as a good night of drinking, but a bad night for dating.