Hey.
Still haven't heard from the doc re: "The Gift that Keeps on Giving" but like I said, I'm not worried.
So Saturday night started out pretty cool...picked up my date at work who was wearing a spiderweb mesh top, covered by a tanktop cut up to look like a skull. And the eyes were wide enough for her breasts to go through.
Wow.
So, we go to the bar where my aforementioned afflicted girl friend works and have a few. My date orders two Jack/Cokes, no ice. She gets pretty sauced. We move on the venue and proceed to see the band...
All through the night, I hear whispers in my ear from her, telling me how awesome I am, kisses on the cheek. I feel like a king, right? She the only girl I'm now seeing, really. So, I get stoked. And I start to smile allllllllll through the rest of the show.
Cloud nine.
The band breaks down, and she runs over to see the bass player who had invited her to the gig. They take a picture together. And another. Then she wants one with her licking his face. Whaaat?
And I know she's being serious because she's a little...unconventional. I should have known this was going to get uncomfortable. He declines. But only because I was there, I feel.
So. He offers her a drink and then extends a drink offer to me, again, only because I was there. It was kind of an...Oh, do you want one too? kind of gesture.
I go outside, leave them to get their drinks and have a cigarette. I head back in expecting to go find them at the bar, and they're not there. They're outside, knee to knee chatting it up. She doesn't look at me once. He barely glances at me. I'm designated to white elephant status; I'm in the room, ::waves:: hellooooo????
So, I go strike up a conversation with a cute blonde who's with this kind of....lubricious, skeevy rocker dude. I get past the introductions, and he slings his arm around her shoulders and his next words kind of slllllllither out: "Isssssn't she sexxxxxy?"
She kind of rolls her eyes (as pretty as they were) and we begin to chat: Berkeley...(nice). Seemingly mellow...(another plus). Plays lacrosse....(a rare bird indeed)!
I look back at my date....still talking with Mr. Cockblock.
To make a long story....um, Homerian...she leaves the venue with me, tadah, but not before the guy says to her, "Well...I know how to get a hold of you." Right in front of me. That ain't right.
The Blonde, though, slips me her card. It's got her headshot on it, and she's a member of SAG. SHe tells me to call her, we'll hang out.
Coolness.
Anywhoo...my date, right as I park in front of her apt., she flings open the door...
Not fun.
Still haven't heard from the doc re: "The Gift that Keeps on Giving" but like I said, I'm not worried.
So Saturday night started out pretty cool...picked up my date at work who was wearing a spiderweb mesh top, covered by a tanktop cut up to look like a skull. And the eyes were wide enough for her breasts to go through.
Wow.
So, we go to the bar where my aforementioned afflicted girl friend works and have a few. My date orders two Jack/Cokes, no ice. She gets pretty sauced. We move on the venue and proceed to see the band...
All through the night, I hear whispers in my ear from her, telling me how awesome I am, kisses on the cheek. I feel like a king, right? She the only girl I'm now seeing, really. So, I get stoked. And I start to smile allllllllll through the rest of the show.
Cloud nine.
The band breaks down, and she runs over to see the bass player who had invited her to the gig. They take a picture together. And another. Then she wants one with her licking his face. Whaaat?
And I know she's being serious because she's a little...unconventional. I should have known this was going to get uncomfortable. He declines. But only because I was there, I feel.
So. He offers her a drink and then extends a drink offer to me, again, only because I was there. It was kind of an...Oh, do you want one too? kind of gesture.
I go outside, leave them to get their drinks and have a cigarette. I head back in expecting to go find them at the bar, and they're not there. They're outside, knee to knee chatting it up. She doesn't look at me once. He barely glances at me. I'm designated to white elephant status; I'm in the room, ::waves:: hellooooo????
So, I go strike up a conversation with a cute blonde who's with this kind of....lubricious, skeevy rocker dude. I get past the introductions, and he slings his arm around her shoulders and his next words kind of slllllllither out: "Isssssn't she sexxxxxy?"
She kind of rolls her eyes (as pretty as they were) and we begin to chat: Berkeley...(nice). Seemingly mellow...(another plus). Plays lacrosse....(a rare bird indeed)!
I look back at my date....still talking with Mr. Cockblock.
To make a long story....um, Homerian...she leaves the venue with me, tadah, but not before the guy says to her, "Well...I know how to get a hold of you."
Right in front of me. That ain't right.
The Blonde, though, slips me her card. It's got her headshot on it, and she's a member of SAG. SHe tells me to call her, we'll hang out.
Coolness.
Anywhoo...my date, right as I park in front of her apt., she flings open the door...
Not fun.
SEEYA