Posts Tagged ‘no money at the bar’

“We go through too much bullshit just to mess with these drunken hot girls”


2010
06.14

That’s a line from Kanye and Mos Def’s record, a letdown, actually – which is also how I’d describe my encounter with a drunken hot girl the other night.

The enemy: Extraction from the bar/friends.

I’m at this bar in the city just being goofy with my friends, and at one point I’m bored enough that I give my buddy a quick slap in the balls. Not a very bromantic thing to do, I know.

Anyway – he’s about to get me back, and I am cupping my nuts as a shield with one hand, and using my other hand to create distance between us.

While this is going on, these 2 girls enter the bar. (We were right near the door.) Out of nowhere the cuter one starts talking to us, introduces herself to me, asks us where we are from. Her ugly friend tells me that “I like your friend!” He has a girlfriend, and she’s busted, so no-go.

My girl says “let’s go get a drink at the bar.” Alrighty. As we walk to the bar, she’s stroking and scratching my back and hand. I can’t believe it’s already on like this.

We get to the bar, and I don’t have enough money for 2 drinks. I tell her “how about I order you a drink, and you order me a drink.” Somehow this message gets lost, she gets a water (to help sober up) and I get a frosty Heineken. Win.

I’m buzzed, she’s drunk. I babble something to her at the bar, our faces meet, and we’re making out. Then her hand is down my pants.

I see if we can get to the outdoor area for a little bit of privacy. It’s closed.

We sit on these benches that are right near the bathroom area. I’m not into just making out all night, I try to sell the idea of going back to my apartment for a drink, but she’s with her 2 friends who “won’t let her leave.” I find her sweet spots on her neck and ear, she’s enjoying herself a lot and doing lord-knows-what with her hand wedged into my kind of skinny jeans.

Eventually one of the mother-hens tells her it’s time to go. I ask her (stupidly, in hindsight) if she wanted to exchange info, or if she’d rather keep things a mystery. She opted for the mystery, and told me she’d meet me here again.

I didn’t care too much in the moment, as it came so freaking easy, and I’m sure there are plenty more just like her waiting to chafe my manparts in a drunken frenzy the next time I’m at that bar.

In hindsight I should have plowed, gotten the number, so at least next weekend at 3 am there are possible vampire activities.