The Ballad of John Baldo

Friday night last week I went out to see some friends play at a bar. While I was watching the band, my friend Dar that I was standing with left for a few minutes, so I was standing alone.

Uh oh. If you're a girl you'll know how dangerous that situation could be.
Not even a full minute after Dar leaves does a weird, short, stocky, Uncle Fester-like bald man come stand next to me. We will call him John Baldo. Here was our exchange - no exaggerations. It needs none.

Waitress: Are you guys ok for drinks?
Me: Yes
John Baldo: Hey can I buy you a drink?
Me: No thanks, I'm good (I was actually thirsty, but once he buys me a drink I'm obligated to him and I want nothing to do with him)
John Baldo: Are you sure? I can't buy you anything?
Me: Nope, thanks though.
John Baldo: Why not, are you driving? (why the fuck is it so weird that I don't want you to buy me a drink? geez buddeh I'm saving you dough here....)
Me: Yea, I don't like to drink and drive
John Baldo: OH WHY DON'T YOU TAKE ME HOME?
Me: Well, I don't think my boyfriend would like that.
John Baldo: WELL I WOULD!
Me: o_O
John Baldo: Give me your hand
*I reluctantly give my hand....why? I have no fucking idea. I didn't want to hurt the loser's feelings, I suppose*
Baldo proceeds to 'massage' my hand, while looking at me like a creep, raising his eyebrows up and down, and rolling his tongue IN HIS MOUTH TRYING TO BE SEXY.
I cringe and pull my hand away.
John Baldo: I used to date a massage therapist, but I would do all the massaging.
Baldo then proceeds to do the disco hip-bump dance with me, but I just stand still, wondering what the fuck I did to deserve this douchebag's interference in my LIFE.
John Baldo: Do you like motorcycles?
Me: Nope.
Baldo then shows me a picture of his motorcycle.
Me: Cool.
Baldo then puts his porky sausage fingers on the back of my neck and starts massaging there.
John Baldo: And to think, this is only what 2 fingers can do. Imagine we were in here, alone, with this music playing and all my fingers going? You'd be in ecstasy. (Um...it was "If You Want Blood" by AC/DC playing...really romantic, no wonder you're single)
At this point I am looking around desperately for ANYONE to come save me from this dude. Alas, I am alone. I cringe again, and flinch away. From this point on, every time he says something I look like I can't make out what he's saying because the band is too loud.
John Baldo: *pulls out a flyer for some fetish S&M costume party* I've never been here before, but apparently they're having a fetish party here tomorrow. $10 if you come in costume. All I'd have to do for that is open my closet. *does disgusting tongue roll again* Ooh yeah, I'm not a bad boy, honest. I know about 8 people up front there that will tell you I'm a good boy. Ok 7 people. 6. Maybe 5.
Me: Heh....um. Ok. I believe you. o_O
FINALLY Dar comes back. I'm like, let's get the FUCK OUT OF HERE!! We go to this hallway to take some pics.
John Baldo: Should I save our spot?
Me: Yep, I'll be back. *NO I WILL NOT, EVER*

What does fucking buddy do? FOLLOWS US. He fuckin photojacks our picture. You can see the look on my face is like, THIS GUY IS A FUCKING CREEPY BALDO LOSER!

After this pic, my friends and I went to the dressing room and I guess John Baldo looked for his next victim. When I came back up to the bar I saw him in the same spot where we were before, but this time massaging some other womans neck as she most likely was contemplating suicide.
So, this, Men-readers, is what us girls have to deal with when we go out. Friggin weirdos. Don't take it too personally if we're standoffish at first if you come up to us in a bar, we're just worried that you're another John Baldo.