So where were we? Oh yes. Rita is rounding 3rd on the dance floor with the Big Tan Guy and Married Guy B is rubbing his big ol’ dick against me. (Meanwhile, I’m thinking Quit teasing me with that thing, ya ass! I can’t do shit with it and your married self!). I decide it’s time for some fresh air and I make my escape to the back balcony of the club where I see a young ‘couple’ groping the hell out of one another in a full on high-school-dance-style make out session. To my left stands a thin, cute man-boy smoking a cigarette and watching the pawing session out of the corner of his eye. I decide to throw him a bone. “Hi there. What are you doing?” He responds, “Watching my brother make out with that midget!” I like this guy already. He clearly resents his brother for finding some strange while he stands aside and waits to escort them both back to their mutual apartment. We chat for a bit, I give him the full beer someone had bought for me that I didn’t want. Then these Barbie-dolls come walking out of the bar and ask me for a smoke. I oblige and smile. The blonde one looks at me and tells me that I am beautiful. Wow, thanks drunk Barbie…very sweet. “No seriously, you’re like Aphrodite.” (Barbie giggles). So the Barbies smoke and leave me and my young man-boy pal standing and chatting. He decides they are right and starts calling me Aphrodite. (Yeah. That happened.)
Stoney: Well, it was nice talking to you. Good luck with your brother and his tiny friend there.
Man-Boy: Wait! What? I need your number!
Stoney: Ok?
Man-boy: (fumbling with his phone) Shit! My phone is dead. How am I supposed to get your number now?
Stoney: Um, how about this… (I hand him a piece of paper with my number on it).
He thinks I’m brilliant. Which, although, I am; I also was alive before cell phones were commonplace, unlike my damn near pre-pubescent new friend here.
We part ways and I rejoin Rita and the married folk on the dance floor. The night has been thoroughly beaten to a bloody pulp and we all head out of the bar stumbling the entire way. The two men left standing are The Big Tan Guy and Married Guy B (giant cock man). Rita and I begin to cross the street to grab a cab and she smacks me on the shoulder whining “I want that guy to come home with me!” “The Big Tan one, really? So then go back across the street and make it happen…” And off she goes. I wait until she gets all the way across the street to him and then I scream “Don’t go out in the rain without a rain coat!” It’s not raining. Just sayin’.
Oh Stoney, you’re pure class. But at least you weren’t a cock block for me that night. Big Tan Guy swoops me into a cab with his married friend and we proceed to drive way out of our way to dump him off at their hotel, then get turned around and head to my place. Tons of making out in the cab ensues. I straddle Big Tan Guy and educate him on the fact that I wasn’t wearing any panties all night. That’s always a priceless facial expression.
We FINALLY get into my house and shut the door. I take off my sundress in one fell swoop, instantly naked, having been sans bra and aforementioned panties all night. I bend over to take off my cowboy boots and he grabs my shoulders. “Leave those on.” Here’s the beauty of a big tall guy – he then picks me up and wraps my legs around his waist and carries me into my bedroom. That is quite possibly my favorite move of all time.
Big Tan Guy keeps me up until 6AM. We sleep until about 10, and despite raging hangovers, managed to have crazy sex for another hour. He finally has to leave, as he and Married Guy are headed to a large sporting event that day, and Married Guy clearly has no clue where his Big Tan friend is, as evidenced by the steady stream of texts and calls that he receives during our morning fun. We each drink about a quart of water and get dressed. Turns out, BTG is also a fan of athletic wear on women. We almost don’t make it out of the bedroom once I put my yoga pants, sports bra, tank top and baseball hat on, but his phone is going off like crazy. We walk out of my house and...where the FUCK is my car? Stoney’s. A cab is called and we finally arrive at Stoney’s. At this point I think I might die if I don’t ingest coffee soon, so I jump out of the cab at Stoney’s, give the driver the name of Big Tan Guy’s hotel, smooch him and send him on his way, instead of driving him personally back to the hotel. I’m thinking of asking Emily Post if that was appropriate post-coital behavior. Thoughts?
Before the night was over, I had gotten a text message from the man-boy saying how happy he was to have gotten my number, how it made his week, and how beautiful I was, thus solidifying his nickname…The Darling.
The Darling proceeds to text me relentlessly for a couple of days. He is always very sweet and complimentary and insistent on seeing me again. So we make plans to go out for a drink the following Friday, but he decides that he can’t wait that long. Accommodating bitch that I am, I invite him over on a random Tuesday at 10pm…this is so going to end well, right?
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