08/09/99 - Last night, the crew went out and celebrated Wam’s birthday. Since his third favorite activity in the world is seeing day boobies, we made a point to hit Nitro before dark.
The awesomeness was threefold.
1) The working ladies were surprisingly slightly above average (considering they were the daytime shift and probably not the “A+” squad).
2) The club has no cover charge or drink minimum during the day.
3) All drinks were half priced before 9 pm (sure, the drinks are normally so expensive that you aren’t saving much money even when the prices are halved, but it’s still kind of cool).
Our group pounded shots and threw singles on to the stage in the highest of spirits.
I took a particular liking to one of the girls. “Molly” is this uber-cool and very cute young lady who immediately grabbed my attention when she came out stripping to “Ava Adore.” This is one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite bands, and never before had I listened to it with perky nipples bouncing off my face.
After her set, she sat down next to me and we conversed for a good half-an-hour. Eventually, it was time to move on, but not before getting Molly’s real name and phone number. She wanted to hang out after work and told me to call her around 2:30 am. I was smitten with this, as I hadn’t bought her any drinks or paid for any lap dances. This allowed me to assume that her interest in me was genuine and not financially motivated.
Our crew went from bar to bar, slowly dwindling as one of us would get thrown out or silently stumble home.
Eventually only Wam, Alexis, and I are left standing. Alexis and I have hooked up before, but she is just a friend. Friend, perhaps, is even too strong a word. She constantly cock-blocks me when we’re out together. Her efforts are intentional and stem from some raging insecurities, I guess. I usually tolerate her annoyingly childish behavior because she so often buys all my food and drinks and because she has gigantic cans. Her goal this evening was to get me to forget about the stripper I had fallen for only a few hours ago and, sadly, she was mostly successful.
At 2 am, I’m chilling with Alexis at my apartment (she’s letting me play with her knockers or whatever, but her only motivation is preventing me from banging the stripper). Things start to fade to black around this time. I fall asleep with my head resting on her boobs.
This morning I wake up, stumble into the bathroom to pee, and then it hits me.
“FFFUUUUUUU!!!” I yell, pounding my fist against the wall. The realization that I didn’t capitalize on my golden stripper opportunity has me so upset it’s even affecting the aim of my stream. After cleaning the pee of off the floor and toilet, I come back out to the living room to examine my phone.
Apparently, we conversed a bit before I passed out on the devil’s bosom. She texts me after work, asking if I still want her to come over (it should be noted: THIS NEVER HAPPENS TO ME, I am not the guy who brings the strippers home from the strip club, I am the other guy, the one who buys her drinks all night and watches her go home with some douchebag instead).
My response is immediate, emphatic, and drunkenly misspelled. At 2:36 am, I tell her she should still come over and give her the cross streets for my apartment building. That’s apparently when I fell asleep.
After that, my phone shows five missed phone calls and six increasingly annoyed text messages:
“Cool. On my way.”
“I’m at the corner of Broadway and Maxwell, where do I go now?”
“Heh. You alive?”
“Where you at?”
“WHERE ARE YOU?”
“Goddammit.”
intersection of Broadway and Maxwell
The last known whereabouts of "Molly." They say if you inhale there at 2:30 am, you can still catch the faintest aroma of stripper lotion.
Yup, I fucking passed out last night. And I stood up the cool/cute stripper on her way over to my apartment at three in the morning.
And now she won’t answer my calls.
Fuck my life.
Look for ACT II: Bathroom Shenanigans tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment