A former housemate of mine is getting married this October, and I thought I would throw her a little shindig to help her celebrate her last few months of freedom before she disappears into the abyss of newlywed status. I also thought what better way to help her get ready for the sex that is most likely to accompany this abyss than a sex toy party prior to hitting the town. We drank our Tie Me to the Bedposts and laughed as we applied edible lotions to our arms to taste the flavors, and the comments and giggles that followed could only mean that we were in for one very interesting night! As we all took turns ordering we of course drank more alcohol, which only served to fuel our new found love affair for Tiny, the 15 inch giant purple penis. While I have not had the pleasure of seeing the Paris Hilton sex tape, I am quite sure that our pictures posing with our new friend would probably serve as some hefty competition in the scandal department.
As we headed downtown to hit the bars, we could be classified into three groups, the sober drivers, the drunker ones, and the drunkest ones. Since death seemed a much better option than moving even a millimeter in my bed the next morning, I am pretty sure that I could be classified into the later group (well that and the fact that right before we left I sucked down two more drinks like they were Kool-Aid without mixing in Sprite so it was basically 32 ounces of liquor). I am not 100% sure of the events that followed, but I am pretty sure that they were along the lines of me slightly flashing the bouncer some cleavage because the bachelorette had lost her license somewhere between my house and the bar. Then, as if I hadn't already had enough to drink, I kept on drinking at the bar. There were some key moments as I am sure you can imagine where all 15 of us got excited about the poles and did our best stripper impressions. I am pretty sure that my other friend's new boy toy thinks that I propositioned him as I made the comment that we tend to share when she went to the bathroom (I swear I was talking about dancing partners). Then upon being felt up while dancing by some really young short guy, I looked at him and held my hand out above my head and told him that he needed to be "this tall to ride this ride." Just when I thought the night couldn't be anymore entertaining, we found HD waiting on the tailgate of his truck for me in his driveway and he had left me another love note (ok well really a booty call note) on my door. As his roommate, the drunkard, was out of town at the beach, I eventually followed him next door. All I can say is that serious talk + excessive amounts of alcohol = one very bad idea and nothing I say once the room starts spinning should be taken at face value!
Showing posts with label bars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bars. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Monday, July 23, 2007
"Kiss Me Fool"
A very dear friend called me recently to ask if I wanted to grab a drink with her that evening. Since I was off the following day from work and it was pitcher night at one of my favorite bars, she certainly didn't have to twist my arm very hard. I was also very excited about the prospect of seeing her and spending some quality girl time. I picked her up and we headed downtown to start what would be the first of several pitchers that evening.
As with any girls' night, the talk moved in the direction of the male sex. At this point, the friend felt compelled to apologize to a former fling who had rather gentlemanly held her hair back and rubbed her back as she was bent over my porch railing a few weeks prior. Text messages followed, and before we knew it he was on his way to the bar with a friend to meet us for drinks. The friend he brought also happened to be a guy I knew from high school, who I'll call Turtle for reasons that will be obvious soon. We shared quite a few pitchers that evening, and somehow our conversation evolved to the subject of hot tubs. At this point, Turtle asked a theoretical question as to whether or not I would go back to his place if he promised me a dip in the hot tub. You see, he was contemplating the idea and was conducting a very scientific research study to qualify his purchase. As many of you know, I have an affinity for hot tubs, so my official reply to the study was yes. Those of you who have conducted research in the past know that any legitimate study must have a control subject, which happened to be the question of whether I would return to his place since he didn't have said hot tub. My official reply to this question was maybe. As the bar began to close, my friend and I held a conference in the ladies' room in which we agreed to return to the Turtle's house for at least a little bit.
My friend and I were not sure of the best way to arrive at the house, so we split up and her interest rode with me. He questioned what I thought of the Turtle, mentioned that I was definitely the Turtle's type, and explained that I may have to make the first move. My response was that I do not make the first move, particularly when I have very little evidence of said interest. Therefore, when we arrived at the house, the boys were forced to have a little pep talk as the Turtle originally started to do laundry. We later went in the living room and began to watch a movie, and shortly after my friend and her interest left the living room and moved to the other bedroom. I thought to myself, maybe now he will finally make a move on me! I was sadly mistaken though and found myself transported back to the high school game of "Will He or Won't He." It started with a hand on my thigh, slowly progressing to hand holding, then his head on my shoulder as he put his arms around me. My best guesstimate would be that almost an hour and a half later, he finally kissed me! He then suggested that as the couch was not very comfortable, we move to his bedroom. He was a perfect gentleman as we lay there talking, me laying on top of him as he scratched my back and mixing in an occasional kiss. As I rolled over to go to sleep, he earned major bonus points as he turned to spoon me, entwine my fingers with his, and every now and then kiss my shoulder. I guess the fable about the turtle proves true because clearly slow and steady wins the race!
As with any girls' night, the talk moved in the direction of the male sex. At this point, the friend felt compelled to apologize to a former fling who had rather gentlemanly held her hair back and rubbed her back as she was bent over my porch railing a few weeks prior. Text messages followed, and before we knew it he was on his way to the bar with a friend to meet us for drinks. The friend he brought also happened to be a guy I knew from high school, who I'll call Turtle for reasons that will be obvious soon. We shared quite a few pitchers that evening, and somehow our conversation evolved to the subject of hot tubs. At this point, Turtle asked a theoretical question as to whether or not I would go back to his place if he promised me a dip in the hot tub. You see, he was contemplating the idea and was conducting a very scientific research study to qualify his purchase. As many of you know, I have an affinity for hot tubs, so my official reply to the study was yes. Those of you who have conducted research in the past know that any legitimate study must have a control subject, which happened to be the question of whether I would return to his place since he didn't have said hot tub. My official reply to this question was maybe. As the bar began to close, my friend and I held a conference in the ladies' room in which we agreed to return to the Turtle's house for at least a little bit.
My friend and I were not sure of the best way to arrive at the house, so we split up and her interest rode with me. He questioned what I thought of the Turtle, mentioned that I was definitely the Turtle's type, and explained that I may have to make the first move. My response was that I do not make the first move, particularly when I have very little evidence of said interest. Therefore, when we arrived at the house, the boys were forced to have a little pep talk as the Turtle originally started to do laundry. We later went in the living room and began to watch a movie, and shortly after my friend and her interest left the living room and moved to the other bedroom. I thought to myself, maybe now he will finally make a move on me! I was sadly mistaken though and found myself transported back to the high school game of "Will He or Won't He." It started with a hand on my thigh, slowly progressing to hand holding, then his head on my shoulder as he put his arms around me. My best guesstimate would be that almost an hour and a half later, he finally kissed me! He then suggested that as the couch was not very comfortable, we move to his bedroom. He was a perfect gentleman as we lay there talking, me laying on top of him as he scratched my back and mixing in an occasional kiss. As I rolled over to go to sleep, he earned major bonus points as he turned to spoon me, entwine my fingers with his, and every now and then kiss my shoulder. I guess the fable about the turtle proves true because clearly slow and steady wins the race!
Saturday, June 16, 2007
"Oh What a Night"
The music heard in route to a bar inevitably sets the tone for the night. As I picked up my best friend since kindergarten and headed downtown, the music gods smiled upon us and played a few songs that were vital to our tenure in high school. Bitch by Meredith Brooks happened to be one of these songs, and as we were driving singing, "I'm a bitch, I'm a tease, I'm a goddess on my knees," I knew that the night would be anything but ordinary.
Another indicator of an interesting night was the toast we selected as we drank our beers on the patio at Mcoul's. "Here's to the boys that we love. Here's to the boys that love us, but the boys that we love aren't the boys that love us so fuck the boys, here's to us!" That simple toast and the fact that we hadn't seen each other for six months, helped put us into a sassy mood as we hit the town. I mean what else could possibly lead me to tell Mr. High School Crush, "Just so you know, I plan on taking you home tonight, and I can't do that if you don't meet us."
Fast forward to the high points of the night at The Rhino, where a guy surely in his late thirties bought me a beer and attempted to impress me by doing the escalator and elevator, the bouncer telling me that I can rip his shirt off anytime when I told him he looked like Clark Kent with the pretend glasses and I was just waiting for him to duck in a phone booth and come out with his Superman suit, and being told by Ms. Elementary School that she wasn't hitting on me but I just looked sexy.
The after party ended up being at my house, where my neighbor, Mr. High School Crush, and Crush's lacrosse teammate joined us three girls. Once the boys arrived, I disappeared with Mr. High School Crush for a bit, and let me tell you, as his arms were wrapped around me, the fact that I still really haven't heard much from Mr. Emotionally Unavailable was the furthest thing from my mind. I guess it's really true what they say about how the best way to get over someone is to get under someone new!!!
Another indicator of an interesting night was the toast we selected as we drank our beers on the patio at Mcoul's. "Here's to the boys that we love. Here's to the boys that love us, but the boys that we love aren't the boys that love us so fuck the boys, here's to us!" That simple toast and the fact that we hadn't seen each other for six months, helped put us into a sassy mood as we hit the town. I mean what else could possibly lead me to tell Mr. High School Crush, "Just so you know, I plan on taking you home tonight, and I can't do that if you don't meet us."
Fast forward to the high points of the night at The Rhino, where a guy surely in his late thirties bought me a beer and attempted to impress me by doing the escalator and elevator, the bouncer telling me that I can rip his shirt off anytime when I told him he looked like Clark Kent with the pretend glasses and I was just waiting for him to duck in a phone booth and come out with his Superman suit, and being told by Ms. Elementary School that she wasn't hitting on me but I just looked sexy.
The after party ended up being at my house, where my neighbor, Mr. High School Crush, and Crush's lacrosse teammate joined us three girls. Once the boys arrived, I disappeared with Mr. High School Crush for a bit, and let me tell you, as his arms were wrapped around me, the fact that I still really haven't heard much from Mr. Emotionally Unavailable was the furthest thing from my mind. I guess it's really true what they say about how the best way to get over someone is to get under someone new!!!
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