You know who I’m talking about. He comes in all shapes, sizes, ages, races, levels of intelligence – but he is That Guy. The guy who goes to a bar, and may as well have a bow and arrow in his hands, because he’s just there to hunt.

The second The Bar Hunter starts talking to you, you can tell. He’s not a sweet awkward dude who’s just shy. This guy really could not care less about who you are, what you look like, what you have to say. He’s beyond drunk and is not going to go away until you do the mental equivalent of picking him up and tossing him outside. He must be dealt with, and swiftly. I’ve wasted many a precious minute trying unsuccessfully to reason with these dudes. What I did not know then was that the key is not reason. The key is to come off as batshit insane.

This discovery was made one night a couple of years ago. I was at Stingers, and this one dude was really drunk. He kept saying the same things over and over, which really, fine, I can deal with that to an extent. We’re all at Stingers; I’m not mad at you if you’re drunk! But this guy was that particular brand of drunk out of his mind mixed with hypersensitivity, and possibly coke. So although I tried subtle, going back to my friends, telling him I had a boyfriend (I didn’t, but desperate times…), he kept leaving for about 30 seconds, but getting amnesia and coming back. Saying the same stuff, but this time peppered with, “You really should give me a chance” alternated with “You know…you know, you’re kind of stuck up.” That is key, ladies. You will without exception get called stuck up when you don’t stand still so The Bar Hunter can shoot you with his love arrow.

Ew.

Finally, I was desperate. So when TBH came back over to say the same exact thing for the billionth time, I gazed at him in curiosity. Then I smiled really big and cheerfully said in my best Russkie accent, “I do not understand so much English.”

“What do you mean?” he slurred while trying to maintain his balance.

“I am Russian; I not in thees country long. English not good.”

TBH’s reaction was probably the most entertaining thing he did all night. He seemed to accept my newfound heritage and walk away. But then he turned around and got his Sherlock on, all, “WAIT a second, you were NOT Russian this whole time! Was she—” and here is where he did the classic drunk maneuver of gaining moral support from those around him.

“Was she Russian? Before? Was this girl Russian?”

It was amazing. And I kept up the charade for a bit, enough so that I blew his mind enough to keep him away. A lot of times, guys who get that far gone in bars also get extremely paranoid, and that is key to your escape. Even Bar Hunters don’t want to deal extensively with some creepy chick. Your best bet is to look them square in the eye, and say something strange enough to jump-startle their drunkenness so that they have to stop and process. Often times, the processing will never complete, and you will be free for the night. Like last Saturday, when a drunk-beyond-belief dude started blathering at me, waiting for an answer. I tapped the jukebox we were standing next to and extremely sincerely and apologetically yelled, “I’m sorry, can you please speak into the microphone?” He was confused long enough for me to cross the bar and get out of his path. Success!

How do y’all get rid of drunk and boring strangers in bars? Are you a girl who engages these guys for too long? Has the tide ever turned and made TBH interesting? Are you someone who hangs out with girls who attracts these folks, makes “friends” with them, then passes them off onto you for the rest of the night? Share your stories and feel free to vent!