New Year, New Men

So, I've been thinking. New year, new men. But I find that going solo and dropping the booty call connections or short term flings, gets me back in my overly neurotic, not sure if someones hitting on me or not lifestyle, where I fail miserably at responding to pick up lines. I've been working at a sports bar as a waitress, and there are times when customers will ask me out. One night, I had a table of cute college boys, and one in particular struck my fancy. He had a scar under his eye, kind of like Tommy Flanagan,
 that guy in all the historical, time period movies, like 'Braveheart' and 'Gladiator' the one that has scars on his face, but somehow makes it work and just seems bad ass.  I always go for guys with quirks like that, I once had a huge crush on a guy with a rotten tooth, that I wanted to bone so bad for some reason. But that's another story. Anyways, we'll call this guy, Scar Guy. So after the college boys paid their bill and were about to leave, Scar Guy said 'Thanks for the great service. I hope they don't keep you here too late.' Aka, what are you doing later tonight? My response, 'Oh, I know! I have to get up super early to play D&D tomorrow!' Now at the moment, I was like, 'Ok Hannah, play it cool, let him know you're super awesome and on his level and play D&D and read Batman comics, dudes LOVE girls that are into that shit!' Ehhhh, WRONG!!! That's so not the best first impression to give, I basically said I'm not interested because I have to get up early, and I'm a weirdo because I play D&D. But I thought I redeemed myself! Because he knew about D&D, he was like 'I bet you're chaotic neutral.' So the initial embarrassment of my dorky word vomit, seemed to make an about turn because he's a D&D player too! Uh, SCORE! Maybe hat wasn't such a bad move after all? However, my friends later explained to me that chaotic neutral pretty much means you're unaligned and you don't really give a shit. Seeing that I didn't get a number, maybe that was actually a backhanded insult, like 'Hey crazy, you clearly don't give a shit because I'm hitting on you and your D&D game is more important to you, why don't you go home and hump yourself.'

Anyways, I feel like sometimes I'm on my A game, and sexual prospects stick to me like glitter to a first grader. And then there are times like the epic fail described above. There's the times I'm experiencing now, where after countless hookups with various men; non of whom I'm interested in. I become tired and treat my vagina like a savings fund, running low on accounts. Trying to throw out the numbers in my little black book and focus on myself. Only pulling out savings when absolutely necessary, just enough to cover the essentials; bread, butter, a nice lay to keep my crazy at bay. I feel like my vagina is a small bodega struggling to push the last of the Twinkies and cans nearing their expiration dates off shelves in time to take a much needed vacation; and to revamp the store with products from new suppliers. Since the shop hasn't closed since...never? Well, there was that one time a black customer visited and we had to close for repairs, i.e tightening screws...aka my vagina. (Once you go black, you really can't go back). But even so, we still had suppliers calling to deliver more shipments. If you're following me, it's totally acceptable, if not expected that you're not, but in the slight chance that you are...I suppose my question is this: What is one to do when all the Twinkies are gone?