There Is No Such Thing As A Bar Girl

Commenter LauraByNight wrote on yesterday’s post:

This seems to suggest that a good strategy for finding quality girls is to avoid looking in bars and clubs, and maybe to avoid spending most of your time in places full of high-powered, high-strung women. I realize that this could be difficult for some men, depending on their jobs.

It also suggests that the old-fashioned idea of meeting potential mates through family and friends, or in school or at work (rather than a place where most people are hoping to find someone to fuck) would yield a higher return rate.

I hear this assertion all the time from those who believe that quality girls can’t be found in bars — “Oh, well of course if you go to a bar you’ll only find bar whores, what did you expect?”. The time has come for yer not-so-humble narrator to grind this idiotic meme into dust.

Here is a representative sample of the occupations of ten girls I met in bars:

Lawyer
Med student
PR flack
Pharmaceutical saleswoman
Smithsonian curator
Art gallery owner
Bartender (different bar)
Marketing
Teacher
Waitress/student

Here is a representative sample of the education levels of ten girls I met in bars:

Ivy league (2, including one Harvard grad)
Seven Sisters (1)
State school (3)
Grad school (3)
Never went to college (1)

Here is my informal judgement of the IQs of the last ten girls I met in bars:

150 (1, she was weird)
130-150 (1)
115-130 (2)
100-115 (5)
under 100 (1)

Here is a representative sample of the dress style of ten girls I met in bars:

Conservatively dressed (5)
Sexily dressed (4)
Sluttily dressed (1)

If it isn’t yet obvious to the “bar girls are low quality” brigade let me spell it out for you: Girls who go to bars are the same as girls you meet anywhere else. They are not an exotic subspecies of womanhood. I understand the impulse of the Loser Mafia to want to disparage girls who are confident enough to go to bars and scoop up tons of male attention, but the facts don’t bear out the comforting belief. That classy, smartly attired girl with her pink Ipod who’s picking through the organic bean sprouts at Whole Foods is the same girl who was at the bar last night hitting up chumps for free drinks.

Think about it — if you were an attractive girl why wouldn’t you go to a bar while you’ve still got it? You’d be negligent not to. A girls’s urge to feed her ego and take the measure of her sexual market value is intense, and bars are perfectly suited for maximum assuaging and feedback. Where else can she command the attention of so many men in such a short amount of time and limited space? (Tip: this is why you should never consider a bartender for a long term relationship. Any girl who chooses to go into bartending is a Ninth Order Attention Whore who needs hours upon hours of male flirtations and social stimulation just to feel human.)

But there are girls who insist they never go to bars. I believe them. These are the kinds of girls you will rarely find in a bar at night when the mating bazaar is wide open for business:

Fat chicks (usually not more than 10%)
Over 30 women
Ugly chicks

Fat and ugly chicks don’t need their fragile egos pummeled any more than they already are by exposing themselves to the hormonally heated competitive environment of a bar. If you are a fatty fucker you don’t need to go to bars; just step outside and walk the earth. If you’re a freak who likes ugly chicks, trawl Craigslist W4M. Fucking horror show.

Over 30 women are either married and off the market or unwilling to go pert breasts-to-sagging breasts with the younger competition. I don’t blame them. It’s easier to maintain an illusion of desirability if you never leave the house.

Attractive single girls who, for reasons of principle, heavy work schedule, or visceral dislike of the scene, never go to bars are a tiny subset of the total number of attractive girls. But just because they loathe bars to the point of active avoidance does not automatically impart them with a glowing halo. They just get their attention fix through other means, like, oh, to pick an example completely at random, blogs.

Attractive girls who are in happy, committed relationships are often the biggest propagators of the “bars suck” meme, because in their lovestruck haze they have forgotten just how many nights they used to go out to bars. Their opinion is of no use to any man trying to figure out where to meet women.

I once did the smart, enlightened thing and dated a “quality girl” I met at a painting class I had signed up for. While we were dating, I bumped into her at my favorite bar at 1AM, drinking with her friends.

Only suckers throw away their time and money chasing the elusive “quality girl” through events, classes, or expensive but socially approved status-whoring hobbies. Bars are free.

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Reader Mailbag

I often get emails from readers asking me for advice on game, dating, or relationships (along with sexual proposals from female readers). I’m less than conscientious keeping up with these email requests so instead I’ll answer some of them on the blog.

Email #1

Hey! I’ve been reading the posts on your blog, very good advice especially on the “How to win back an ex-girlfriend“.

Well me and my girlfriend of 1 and a half years broke up a little over a week ago. It’s been killing me inside cause I didn’t see it coming – but now I realise that we got boring together and I’ve learnt what I need to do in the future to make it work.Now right after it happened I did all the wrong things for a day or two – called her, texted her, rocked up to her house with flowers – but once I did that I realised she just needs space so I left her alone from then. I told her on msn that I know she needs space and I shouldn’t have rocked up to her house, and that she can take all the space she needs.

About 5 days later (a week after we broke up), she texted me asking how I was going. I wrote back really positive, she replied saying “good for you, I’m feeling pretty shit, been going out late nights over the weekend, haven’t been getting much sleep”. I wrote back positive again, joking around that she usually sleeps like 20 hours a night, I asked her if she was working much these days. She wrote back “I haven’t worked at all which has made it go so much slower :(, I was out till 3am on thurs, 5am on fri, 3am on sat, just trying to keep myself busy cause I feel like shit”. I wrote back joking around saying that we both haven’t had the flu all winter and we’ll prolly get sick from these late nights, and that I’ve got my hair cut pretty short the other day, and at the end I asked if she would like to go for coffee some time.

It was probably too soon, I didn’t get a response from her, but she called me about 30 mins later. We spoke for about 15 mins (probably too long, iknow). She was telling me who she’d been out with the last few nights etc etc. I kinda kept what I was doing to myself. At the end of the call she had to go cause someone came in to the store, so she said she would call me back. Called me again about 1hr later, we talked for a little again, then someone came into the store, same thing. She called again an hour later and said she’d just gone impulse buying perfume and stuff etc. Then one of her friends came in to the store so she said she would call again.

She didn’t call again.

It’s been 2 days since then and I haven’t contacted her in over a week. Should I give it another 2 weeks before I initiate conversation?

I’m going out with the boys again this weekend, trying to get her off my mind, its really hard though. We used to talk like 4/5 times a day, saw eachother probably every day (it was too much at times, I’ve realised this now, but she was the one that wanted to see/talk all the time so it must be killing her inside too).

What should I do from here?

I eagerly await your response!
J.

Whenever a guy tells me he “didn’t see it coming” I know that means his girlfriend saw it coming six months before he did. She’s been doubting and scheming while you still thought the love was in full bloom. That’s why you’ve got to look for the warning signs earlier and make the necessary adjustments.

It’s good that you recognized your slavish neediness (rocking up to her house with flowers? oy vey), but you continued to do the wrong things even after backing off her. For instance, never tell a girlfriend who is growing cold that you know she needs space; simply give her the space and say nothing. Verbalizing her negative feelings towards you only reinforces them in her mind and sets you up as lower status. Your thinking should always be “She is lucky to be with me” and that way when she starts to drift you do the only sensible thing a higher status man would do: You stop giving her your time and go find other women who will give you the attention you deserve.

Staying positive in your text interactions was good, but you’d have been better not answering her texts at all, or at least answering a small fraction of her texts a day or two later. You responding right away to every text she sent with long-winded and pointless conversation tells her that she is still on your mind and you’ve got nothing else going on. Also, the “I feel like shit” line is a classic female pity ploy to see if she could still wrap you around her little finger, and you obliged. Next time, ignore those female head games or call her out for trying to pull that crap on you.

“It was probably too soon”. Yes, it was. Wait at least three weeks before attempting contact of any sort.

“We spoke for about 15 mins.” You’re giving her way too much of your time. Beta. When she calls after an ostensbile breakup intiated by her your conversation should go along these lines: “Hey nice to hear from you. Listen, I’m in a rush so we’ll have to catch up some other time.” End of phone call.

“She called again an hour later and said she’d just gone impulse buying perfume and stuff etc.” She’s telling you this and you’re patiently listening like you care. An alpha male doesn’t give a shit about the shopping habits of a girl who has stopped sexing him. Cut the convo short and hang the fuck up, your time is too valuable for the babblings of a manipulative ex-girlfriend who probably banged a dude five minutes after you called her.

“She didn’t call again.” No surprise here. She dumped you, and your post-dump actions simply confirmed her emotional decision.

“Should I give it another 2 weeks before I initiate conversation?” I’m afraid you shouldn’t give it any weeks. This one is a lost cause. You’ve dug the hole too deep for calculated absence to make any difference.

“it must be killing her inside too.” No, it’s not. Projection won’t make it all better.

“What should I do from here?” You have two choices as I see it. You can either drink yourself into oblivion and pass out in the fetal position on the floor of your bathroom barely summoning the strength to flick your tongue out to catch your salty tears for nourishment, or you can go out every night, with or without your boys, and strike up a conversation with any attractive women who interest you. The outcome of either decision will resolve itself.

“I eagerly await your response!” Eagerness is what cost you this girl. Now go, and sin no more, my son.

Email #2

SO its like this:I met this girl We got to talking likeing each other
it seemed and she was asking good questions that i
figured were important to her and i did likewise.
There were elements of interest that we were both
looking into a dare i say it relationship. well she
often accuses me of flirting which i think would have
been a good point of lettin her know my interest in
subtle ways i think. anyway, finally went to chill
with her, we were supposed to go out but i got there
and she was just casual. after a while chilling
talking laughing she is alluding she might not be into
relationship just seeing what happens. well i got
comfy with her and i saw gestures of let “get dirty”
which i didnt do. in long term serious relationships,
sex is not much what i want to get into right off the
back. anyway, went to see her again and she was all
closed up. folded arms and crossed legs. are my
chances ruined here? how can i respark. i need to get
her back to the point where she was comfortable and
thought she had something over me, how else woulkd she
want to get dirty. i mean my hand was over her crothc
but i didnt do much with it.

N.

Mistake number one: Talking about looking for a relationship. Listen, it doesn’t matter how much you and her agree on wanting a relationship, talking about it, especially on the first few dates, will assuredly kill the seductive vibe that is a necessary prerequisite for a relationship to happen in the first place. Girls want to EARN your love; they don’t want you throwing it out there and depriving them of the uncertainty that moistens their womanhood.

Maxim #21: Never talk about getting into a relationship even if the girl says that’s what she’s looking for.

If she’s accusing you of flirting, what she’s really saying is “I love when you flirt with me”. So take that as a good sign, and don’t get defensive or backpedal. Just nod and say with a smirk “I can tell you like it.”

“after a while chilling talking laughing she is alluding she might not be into relationship just seeing what happens.” She’s sensing your neediness which was probably triggered by your earlier confession of wanting a relationship. When a girl pulls back, you pull back twice as far.

“well i got comfy with her and i saw gestures of let “get dirty” which i didnt do.” She wanted to get physical and you either missed the signals or refused to give her what she wanted. She now thinks she is unattractive to you.

“in long term serious relationships, sex is not much what i want to get into right off the back.” This is a common misperception about sexual dynamics. Holding back will not ensure the development of a relationship, and getting physical early will not kill the chances of a relationship happening. In fact, just the opposite. Early, passionate sex is often the prelude to amazing long term relationships. How could it be otherwise when the two of you are highly attracted to each other?

“anyway, went to see her again and she was all closed up. folded arms and crossed legs.” You weren’t physical and you talked about a romantic relationship with her before you fucked her. What did you expect when you play the part of the girl? Your job as a man is to get into her panties, sooner rather than later. Leave the relationship hyperventilating to the girls.

“are my chances ruined here?” Yes. “how can i respark.” Re-woman.

“i mean my hand was over her crotch but i didnt do much with it.” What, were you using her crotch as an armrest? If she’s letting you do that, your next step should have been the bedroom. Epic fail.

***

I hope my Dr. Phil impersonation has been helpful. Reader Mailbag will be a regular feature here at Le Chateau.

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Handholding Daytime Dates

Daytime dates are risky. Besides the sex-killing sobriety, a girl can learn a lot more about you when the sun is up and you’re outside strolling around for hours revealing more of yourself than you would be inclined to at night in a dimly-lit lounge with music to distract her.

An actual Bhutanese man so secure in the size of his member he wears a skirt with legs open:

Dark Corners + Alcohol + Music + Flattering Lighting  + Hidden Groping = Air of Mystery = Sexual Tension = High Chance of Sex.

Bright Sunshine + Outdoors + Downtown Folk Festival + Bhutanese Men in Skirts + Minimal Erogenous Zone Contact = Mystery Revealed = Sexual Tension Relieved = Low Chance of Sex.

Daytime dates are great if you’ve already banged the girl and you want to steer her in the direction of steady girlfriend. Deeper bonds are formed when you’re both sober and can hear each other speak. Plus the daytime allows you to make a more critical assessment of her facial appearance, which matters if you plan to show her to your friends or accidentally ejaculate inside of her.

If you can hold a four hour conversation without it going stale, and still maintain an intriguing demeanor, then by all means take your date out during the day. Just don’t expect it to lead to your bedroom. Best you can do is a cuddle on a park bench and some closed-mouth, publicly-acceptable kissing.

An expert level frumpy white lady listens with rapt attention, bobbing her head up and down, to a Bhutanese man with a woman’s voice sing traditional songs:

Here are whiter people enjoying a traditional Bhutanese dance and lording their enlightened status over the wrong kind of white people (who happened to be in the Texas-themed tent 20 yards away):

FYI: If a girl holds your hand on a daytime date before you’ve sexed her, she sees you as marriage material.

Most girls think that handholding is more intimate than kissing. Many even believe that handholding should not happen until after sex. Girls somehow think palms touching is a bigger deal than genitals slapping.

Are girls in Kansas this way? I doubt it.

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Boyfriend Destroyer?

What do you do if you’re being used… and you know it?

An awkward scenario in which to find yourself embroiled is to be dating a girl you like, who also likes you and has made that known, but who is deep into a multi-year relationship with another guy that she has told you about, and which is currently on shaky ground for reasons she’s given that you’re not sure you believe entirely except for the hard evidence of her sleeping with you.

As guys, we should always strive for two in the kitty. It’s best to keep the embers burning with at least two women so you can swing straight into new pussy when one goes stale. A grinding dry spell will put you in a horrible state of mind for meeting women. Girls can sniff a lonely, unattended penis from 12 parsecs, and it’s not attractive to them. Where men get turned off by another man’s seed contaminating the vagina he would like to fuck, women get turned ON when another woman’s pussy juice, especially a hotter woman, is greasing the pole of the man she likes.

(Of course, women will say otherwise. Don’t bother paying attention. They are kidding themselves.)

The reverse scenario, the one I mentioned above, doesn’t happen for the same reason. Women aren’t afraid of a lengthy bout of celibacy like men are if their relationship should end. They don’t swing from dick branch to dick branch because they can’t go two days without sex. When women allow a second man into their lives for longer than a one-off fuck it’s usually for one of two reasons:

1. To test the mettle of their primary relationship.
2. To seek an excuse to leave their primary relationship.

If you are the “other guy” banging a girl who already has a serious boyfriend, it’s important that you try to determine as best you can which reason applies to her. Knowing where you stand won’t make much difference in how you should act, but it will help you decide whether to exit or dig in your heels. As VK said, the dick sandwich is no fun place to be, but at least knowing about it frees you to remove all investment and relentlessly hit on new girls.

If it’s reason #1, then you are dealing with a girl who still loves her boyfriend, but has doubts. She has either been hurt by him or he spends a lot of time away from her on travel. Her faith in a future with him is not as certain as it once was. She sees you as a litmus test — “Can I survive this charming new guy’s interest in me and still feel love for my fading boyfriend?”

Unless you don’t care about the girl as anything more than a short fling, you don’t want to be put in the position of a litmus test. She is using you. You are a tool. If you know this, then you won’t be surprised when she suddenly stops speaking to you. And you won’t feel guilty about not spending one red cent on her for any dates. Prepare to walk away from her at a moment’s notice.

If it’s reason #2, then she sees you as a real alternative to her main boyfriend whom she no longer loves. If you like her and want more than a sexual tryst, then you have a shot to usurp the boyfriend. Run your game like you would if she were completely single. The worst thing you could do is try to push a conclusion; that will send her flying back into the boyfriend’s arms. Play it cool. If she likes you more than him, she’ll eventually dump him and find her way to you.

There is no guaranteed way to determine which reason is valid. It’s an inexact science of subtle body language and subcommunication. Girls lie as a matter of habit. You could take a high risk gamble and ask her point blank if she loves her boyfriend. If she hesitates or answers “That’s a weird question” then she doesn’t love him. Proceed apace. If she says yes and looks wistfully into the distance, then she probably still loves him. Get your dick wet a couple times with her and take pics for future masturbatory delight.

The big downside to dating a taken girl is the threat of an irate boyfriend coming after you. A girl who wants to push her boyfriend to the edge in order to gauge his commitment to her, or wants to rub salt in his wounds before leaving him, will — *oops!* — casually mention your existence to him. You’d be amazed how many smart, supposedly normal girls, are prone to this sort of “let’s you and him fight” primitive mentality.

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Wii Love

There is a lot of unspoken tension on the first two dates. Until you’ve had sex with a girl, that tension will always be there, and can’t be resolved until clothes are off and bodies pressing. This tension is good — it serves to keep both of you mentally sharp so you put your best face forward, and it motivates you to find a way to relieve the tension in sex. This is why when a girl decides after a lackluster first date that the guy is not worth banging she feels disappointment more than relief as the tension fizzles.

But too much tension makes you stiff and nervous. Then you’ll try too hard to compensate for how you’re feeling, anything to alleviate the discomfort. This is where the Wii shines. Next time you go out on a date tell her you’re taking her to a place that has Wii bowling. Watch her eyes light up!

The Wii is great for relieving the negative nervous tension while sustaining the positive sexual tension. You’re bumping into each other, you’re swinging your arms, you’re standing behind her guiding her arm on proper Wii bowling technique, and you’re making fun of each other. Wii boxing works, too. Imagine the unbridled joy of popping your virtual date with an uppercut. Actually, her joy will be greater. All girls secretly harbor a hidden desire to physically pummel the guys they are attracted to.

And the Wii characters are cute and cartoonish which appeals to a girl’s sensibility. Make sure she has a couple drinks in her before playing. Inebriated Wii torques the burning lust.

Close the deal with naked Wii Fit.

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Speed Dating Sucks

I went to a speed dating event here in DC with my date and one of her girlfriends. The idea was that we would have some over-the-top fun with it while practicing our flirting skills on a maximum number of targets in a minimum amount of time in order to keep our game sharp. (Lord knows this is much easier for women to do. Their game amounts to cleavage.) We would pretend not to know each other. A side benefit from surreptitiously watching each other work the magic with other speed daters would be heightened sexual arousal that would resolve itself later in the night in panty-shredding lust. Kink alert in full effect.

We devised the questions we would ask our four minute “dates”. She wanted to see how much she could get away with so these were the questions with which she was going to pepper her speed suitors:

How much do you gross per year?
What kind of car do you drive?
Where do you see yourself in five years?
Can you support me so I don’t have to work?
How many cleaning ladies do you think is reasonable?
What kind of engagement ring would you get me?
How much would you allot to spend on our wedding?
What would you like to name our first born?
What does your stock portfolio look like?
If my mother gets sick, can she come live with us?
How many cats do you think is normal?
Do you mind if I hang a portrait of my cat in the living room?
I’m a scientologist. Would you be willing to convert for me?
What were your SAT scores?
What was your standing as far as getting picked in gym class?

She even wanted to bring a Barbie and Ken, give them to the guy, and say, “now act out how we would resolve an argument.”

I admit I laughed at these. If the victims guys were smart, they’d play along and say things like “I have one whole cent in my stock portfolio!” Most likely, they’d get defensive or answer straight. Speed dating crowds are that kind of people.

Since I wanted to join in the glib fun, I made up a list of questions I would ask my dates to see how far I could push my game past its barriers:

Are you flexible? How many yoga positions can you get in? How long can you keep them?
Are you confident enough to go bra-less?
Do you like sex in public?
Are you comfortable with the idea of having yourself photographed nude?
Can you suck a thick milkshake through a straw?
Are you good a good cook? (actually, i use this one a lot)
You’re not a prude, are you?
How do you feel about housework in the nude? (Seinfeld nixes it.)
Are you cool with threesomes?
Would you consider yourself experimental in the bedroom?
Do you like to travel… to have sex in exotic locales?
Does looking at a cigar turn you on?

Unfortunately, neither of us got the chance to try out our souped-up conversational skills on unwitting speed daters. When we arrived, it was clear this was the saddest crowd of lonely hearts in all of DC. The women were mid-30s to mid-40s and older and looking every bit of it and the men, while older and, from the bits of conversation I overheard, successful professionals, made it worse for themselves by dressing in rumpled shirts like accountants on casual Friday and slumping in their chairs with the familiar drawn faces of those who have been beaten down by life. My date and her friend completely lost interest in sitting through even one second of this four minute dating of the damned, so we left as soon as we got our stick-on nametags. They should call it speed dying.

The impression I got walking by the tables of speed daters was the same I got when I first visited my grandmother at a nursing home — chamber of horrors. The rank miasma of bedraggled desperation, depression, and utter hopelessness was overbearing. It settled around me like a suffocating shroud of despair, sapping all the fun out of being alive.

There is nothing more pathetic and… alien… than a pre-menopausal aging childless woman throwing herself headlong into the chaotic vagaries of dating. When a woman doesn’t have children to nurture and raise by her early 30s she morphs rapidly into a sad and tragic creature — a shell entity of raging cynicism that can do no more than go through the motions — that no one wants to be around. Whatever is left of her innate femininity, beauty and sexiness is destroyed to dust by that point. And the men, despite their well-paying jobs as corporate lawyers, lobbyists, and policy analysts, seemed to have forgotten or never bothered to learn what it takes to attract a woman. Hint: waving a stable job and a fat paycheck ain’t it.

My advice to the guys who run these speed dating and related social events in DC: Stop charging $60 to $300 for your lameass glorified happy hours. I understand you’re all about making a buck, but when you set the price at airline ticket levels you will get those men who have nothing to offer but their money, and those women who want nothing else but those men who offer nothing but their money. End result: Older bitter women desperate for husbands and boring beta males desperate to slide comfortably into sexless soulless predictable suburban ennui. If you want to spice it up and attract a more diverse, fun crowd (read: younger), try a lower price range and more casually creative get togethers. But hey, it looks like you’ve cornered the niche market of schlubs and hags who’ll pay through the nose like clockwork every week seeing the same people over and over and hoping against hope that one more contrived event and another $100 will usher their soulmates through the door.

Tick tock and all that.

Verdict: *Shudder*

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The Gayest Show On Earth

The circus is a great daytime event to take a girl for a third date. It’s thooper dooper gay, because the performers are very happy and always smiling. The spectators are smiling, the clowns are smiling, everyone is gay and joyous. So fabulously gay! The happy smiling gayness puts your date in a positive upbeat mood, even if the brat sitting next to her got cotton candy in her hair. Plus, it gives you and her plenty to ridicule, including all the kids in the audience on sugar highs, and as we know nothing bonds like shared mockery. Making fun of people has been the catalyst for sexual congress for thousands of generations.

Girls holding hands in the club are circus elephants. The girl in the lead dragging her friends around is the alpha elephant. The fattest elephant was the caboose.

Here are the girls complimenting each other on how good their asses look in those new jeans.

I caught the human cannonball mid-blast. His trajectory and distance reminded me of my jizzbombs. I wished my money shots made the cannon noise.

The guy standing on the elephant is the central circus character. He’s sort of a half-clown, half-Shakespearean tragic figure for the 21st century who pretends to pine for one of the beautiful trapeze artists. His clown makeup was not the scary kind with the big red nose and lips. He just had tall hair and maybe some pastel colored lip gloss which I’m told was poppin’. I read that clown school is more selective than Harvard, so only the best graduate and go on to work for one of the major circus outfits, like Ringling or Cirque du Soleil. It showed. This guy was a Renaissance man, skilled in acrobatics, athletics, fashion, drama, and animal husbandry. My date was ogling him. I began to regret my choice of venue.

There was padding under the high wire. Big letdown. The high wire guy was Latino, the human pyramid balancing act was Chinese, and the lion tamer was East European. Stereotypes R Us.

I like this photo. I caught the tiger in mid diving ass rape. Surprize buttsecks!

I wrote before about planning creative dates if you want to build a stronger emotional bond with a girl. The circus definitely fits that bill, and judging by the number of couples I saw there mixed in with all the families I’m not the only one who follows the wisdom of my words. A good idea for those masochists who are dating lawyers is to bring her to the circus and if she doesn’t crack a smile once or bitches about the uncomfortable seats you can pay off one of the clowns to harass her with animal balloons shaped like overgrown clits.

Aside from its date potential, I was a little disappointed by the whole spectacle. The circus is a major production now, polished, snappy, and fast-paced, all business no heart. Kiosk after kiosk sold cheap plastic trinkets to shovel into the consumerist maw. It wouldn’t be out of place in the Mall of America. There were no monkeys in hats on organ grinders. No animals taking dumps in the middle of the ring. No poop or hay smells. No bearded ladies, tri-breasted midgets, fire breathers, knife throwers, or Siamese twins. I was hoping for the old grimy circuses of yore you always see in the movies; the ones where you could go behind the big tent and catch a few angry looking balding clowns playing a game of poker and drinking gin through crazy straws. Maybe one of them tells you to “Get lost, kid!” and you find yourself backing into the psychic’s tent who curses in Latin and hisses like a snake when she pulls the Goatse card for you.

No such luck. The only freaks there were the PETA protestors. You can blame the fucking lawyers for this.

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