A Night with the 'Straighties'...well sorta

Saturday night was a bit of a fluke.

Juice Girl wanted to go out, I figured what the hell...

I picked her up and we went to meet a few of her friends at this place called Crave.

Crave is known for its martinis and fondue room.

Word is the food is mediocre.

We arrive and there are 2 chicks waiting for us.

Shortly after another arrives.

I'm surrounded by vagina!

This is an occurrence that hasn't happened in . . . !!

I don't even know!!

Aside from Juicey, there was Zebra Shoes, Blondie, and Anorexia.

(I'm not saying she HAS anorexia, just that she LOOKED like she had anorexia)

She snipped at the hostess to seat us, that we don't have to wait until everyone arrives to be seated.

Well, ok.

So we're seated. The place is pretty empty.

I thought it was supposed to be 'hoppin.'

We don't have napkins, silverware, or drink menus at the table.

It took much too long for the server to show up.

Then we had to wait even longer to get our first drinks.

And course, they fucked mine up.

I got GRAPE, which is not RASPBERRY.

Jerks.

Conversation was pretty brainless. So much so that I don't remember what all was said.

Finally the last 2 in our party showed up.

Guess what?!

A gay couple!!

Thank God.

We ordered appetizers and chatted, conversation was sorta split between the 2 tables . . . Blondie, Zebra Shoes, and Anorexia - me, krissi, and gay boys.

The appetizers weren't too bad, the martinis were about average and the service sucked.

I'm never going back.

After we finally escaped Juicey, Roomate, and I went over to 'Old Cab.'

It's a shit hole.

It has Smithwick's on tap.

It's awesome.

It's been freakishly warm and humid lately so we were on the patio.

Sluts were running around in tube tops and skirts so short their clams were hanging out!

To our left there was Tragedy.

These people looked they had dragged themselves through the street gutters from their trailer court 4 blocks away.

We were fascinated.

Conversation was good and more people showed up.

Eventually we had to go inside . . .

And that's when we spotted them.

Rugby boys.

One particularly cute one was sitting at the opposite end of this huge table from me, talking to some chick I didn't know, but apparently knew someone in our group.

So I asked her to introduce me...

Oh, I just met him!

Perfect.

So I cozy up to the bar between 2 of his friends.

They look me up and down and buy me a beer.

We chat until Cutie comes back.

And then, it was on.

He was their DD that night, which was quite the challenge.

Can you hold your own chatting with a cute rugby boy after so many drinks?

Didn't think so.

The flirt was on.

Cute. Check.

Educated. Check.

Employed. Check.

Hot body. Double Check.

How do I know?

I feel everyone up!

Der.

Bar closes - we take the flirting outside.

Everyone in my party is giving me the thumbs up.

Well this is going to be fun. Would you like to exchange numbers?

Sure.

So I give him mine.

I'm calling you right now so you'll have mine - see?

I sorta glance at his phone and find it hard to focus at exactly what it was doing but it looked like he was calling.

We're going to after hours - do you ladies want to join us?

Juicey and Roommate didn't.

I'm game. (duh.)

Alright, we'll stop and grab beer and meet you there.

So I take the girls home, grab some gas, and go to the after hours club.

It was packed. to the brim.

And it must've been Hoochie Momma Ghetto Night.

I pay and wade my way through a sea of drunken people looking for the group of rugby boys.

Wait, I'll just call/text him.

Cellphone, what is his number?

I don't know. Don't look at me . . .

Stupid cell phone either didn't register the call.

or he didn't really call. . . .

I try to think back to when he showed me his phone.

Ah well, just wander around and look for em.

I get flagged down by one of the bartenders from the bowling alley.

They give me beer.

I tell them the story of why I'm there alone.

I chill there for a little, then I think I see one of em.

Then I run into Cousin C with some bitch he picked up Friday night.

Then I spot the rugby boy in the jersey.

He takes me to where all the others were hanging out.

One guy was very open about how he's a huge asshole.

He was right. It was funny. Honesty is good.

So where's Cutie?

Oh I dunno, he must b'round here shomewheresh...

Oh, ok...

Then we find out we have a mutual acquaintance.

Ben.

He plays rugby and is a fan of the MooseKnuckle.

So jersey guy calls Ben.

He's wasted at a Perkins across town.

Neat.

After that I ask one of the less drunk guys in the group - Are you sure Cutie's around?

Cutie? Oh, he's prolly at home with his girlfriend.

. . . .

Oh, really.

Nice.

Then some drunk named Dusty started to go on and on about how 'You don't need to put up with this shit. Why are you hanging out with us. This jerk keeps grabbing your ass and I'm a fucking drunk.'

I look around and decide...holy shit, he's right!

SEE.

This is why I hang out at the gay bar with a bunch of straight guys.

They look out for me better since they aren't trying to hunt down some puss.

I don't get grabbed or spanked by random jerks.

(Bats isn't a jerk, I just thought it was funny!)

And I don't have to deal with cute flirty guys that have fucking girlfriends!

And it's not even the part about having a gf that bothers me.

Where's the follow through?!

Where are your fucking balls!

In my gf's purse...

I thought so.