And parenthetically speaking of ex-girlfriends, Two exes and one girl I dated for a bit were all in attendance at the bar. I had intended to go on a binge. A bender. However, I have a history of being a drunken asshole and owed it to those three to show moderation.
Moderation - The scourge of my thirties.
Seventy dollars in beer interspersed with diet cokes and 20 bathroom breaks laid the foundation for a funky evening. Two girls said they'd show their breasts if this guy and I kissed on the lips. I discreetly informed one of the girls that I'd seen both of them naked at some point and sure as fuck didn't need to kiss a guy while wearing a gay looking shirt in a country bar. No sooner did I say that than the other guy wrapped his hand around the back of my head and pulled me in for a closed mouth kiss. He got what he wanted as one girl's shirt came up and - in a surprise move - another girl's pants went down.
We've got bush. - Dudley "Booger" Dawson in "Revenge of the Nerds"
The night progressed. "You were in fine form last night" is how a witness put it when I ran into him the next night. Two girls approached me with a camera phone and asked to have their picture taken with me. I obliged and then they askeed if I wanted to go to Shari's for breakfast. In the "Choose Your Own Adventure" book of life, here's where I decide to A: Go home with my friends and pass out on a couch or B: Go home with two girls and more than likely pass out on a couch. I chose B.
To Shari's we went. There was a group there that these girls were meeting. among the group were four hot 22-to-24-year-olds who apparently thought I was "cute" (according to one of the original girls from the club). One of the girls looked at me and mouthed "hi," which pissed off the guy next to her. I smiled smugly as this shit never, ever, fucking happens to me. I was in a zone, baby.
We cashed out of the Shari's and I hopped in the car with the original two girls. They ditched the twenty-somethings because they were "annoying." Fuck. We went back to an apartment where I figure maybe i'll get laid.
ME AT SOME APARTMENT, LOSING THE BATTLE AGAINST FATIGUE... BUT NOT THE WAR.
Wrong.
The apartment housed two Army guys who thought they were going to hook up with these chicks. It was a nightmare. I'm on the couch with the two girls and these two guys are in the less advantageous position. They had rooms with beds to go to. I was sitting on a couch. I was a guest of their guests. One of the guys pulled the "I need a shoulder rub" move on one of the girls and ultimately moved his head into her lap. "I'm so tired" he said, to which I responded "go to bed." The other guy just sat there in silent tension. I was in awe at his lack of game. I mean, fucking say something. Invite one of the girls into your room to show her your comic book collection. Anything. Instead, all he and his friend accomplished was a two-man-double-up-cock block. By separating me from the twenty-somethings the original two girls had also thrown a c-block. Everyone blocked everyone throughout the evening. John Madden with his digiboard couldn't have diagrammed the elaborate web of blocks that occured that Friday night/Saturday morning. I realized the stalemate I was in when 6am had approached and these two guys were just sitting there. One even asked if I had fallen asleep yet. Fuck you. I didn't ask to be brought there and if you think you're getting the better of me then kiss my ass. I may have low self-esteem, but I do have dignity, motherfucker.
Nothing happened the girls fell asleep, the guys went to their rooms (where they fucking should have been three hours earlier) and I fell asleep on the couch.
That morning's walk of shame took the form of a ride to my car. I got dropped off and went home, only to have to leave for a wedding in three hours. More on the wedding next post...
ONE OF THE ORIGINAL GIRLS, ME, AND SOME GUY WHO JUMPED INTO THE PICTURE
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