Single girl lesson #46 is to check your messages before you go out to meet friends. They probably called to cancel, and you didn’t know because your were getting you ass kicked in the new level in your comedy class that you now feel completely unqualified to be in. Then you can find out that you don’t have to meet them in a bar, alone, in a bad part of Hollywood.

You park your car. A group of five men that look like House of Pain ask you if you’re “in for the night.” You look at them. They all start talking at once.

“Is this your car?”

“Why is such a pretty girl by herself?”

“You going home?”

You tell them that you’ve got plans for the night.

“What are you doing?”

“You going to that club over there? Blue?”

You tell them that you’re meeting friends and you set the car’s alarm so they know not to touch it.

“I’ll be your friend tonight.”

“I’ll be your friend all night, girl.”

You tell them that you’re flattered but busy, and walk away. You keep turning your head as you walk to make sure they’re still walking the other direction. They are, but two of them are walking backwards so they can also keep an eye on you.

Once you reach the bar you can’t remember if you locked your car while you were telling Everlast to fuck off.

You walk back to the car. The doors are locked.

Inside there’s no sign of your friends. You walk around the bar, inside and out. You stand back outside again. The bouncer is giving you the stink-eye. You walk back inside and order a Diet Coke, as this bar is just a meeting place before you go to another place.

You tip the bartender double the cost of the drink so he doesn’t hate you.

You sit at a booth and stir your drink. You’re happy this is a bar that allows smoking. You sit and smoke and try and look like you’re only going to be there for a second.

You accidentally make eye contact with someone else in the bar.

You recognize him. The last time you were here with a group of friends he walked up and started talking. Each one of your group thought someone else in the group must have known him. Turns out he was just a drunk regular, barging in on your conversation.

He says something to you, but the music is too loud. You pretend you didn’t hear him.

He takes this as a sign of encouragement for some reason, and he walks over to your booth.

You frantically check the front door, but no one is there.

He sits down. He starts talking. His name is Stuart. You tell him that he’s bothered you in this bar before. He says he must have been really wasted because he doesn’t remember someone as pretty as you are.

You light another cigarette. Stuart tells you that he just quit smoking two days ago, and he’s drinking tequila to combat the cravings. It’s helping, he says. It’s also causing him to wake up with hallucinations for two hours every morning. He says the hallucinations are scary, but they’re helping him with his music work.

He says he’s really into sounds. You try and act just interested enough that he won’t try and touch you.

He asks why you’ve been waiting for so long. You wonder the same thing. You give yourself until the end of your Diet Coke before you’re going to go home. Stuart asks your name, who your friends are, what you do for a living. You give quick quiet answers. You almost give a fake name, but know it’d be ruined if your friends show up, as they’ll think he’s a friend of yours.

Stuart explains why he quit smoking two days ago. He took a lesbian friend over to his house and she took off all of her clothes. He says that after seeing her ass, he never wanted a cigarette again. He tells you how great her ass was. He says that they didn’t have sex, that he just gave her a massage, but he was hard for her all night, which is rare.

He asks if you are straight. You realize there is no longer a right answer to this question. You tell him that you are and apologize, for some reason.

Stuart says he quit smoking a year ago, but his girlfriend broke up with him and he had to start smoking again. She left him because he wouldn’t make her mortgage payments anymore.

Stuart asks you what kind of food you like to eat. He asks what your typical grocery list might look like.

It is at this point that you notice that Stuart has been crying the entire time you’ve been sitting there. He’s just sitting, smiling, crying and drinking. You aren’t even listening anymore as he tells you what kind of sounds he hears when he hallucinates, and how all you need to do to quit smoking is to see a lesbian ass and drink gallons of tequila.

You thank him for the advice, pack your things and leave the bar.

So this is single.