Disclaimer: If you don’t want to hear about my (almost, but not quite) sex life, you should click away.
I went out Tuesday night (through Wednesday morning – I’m on vacation so shut up!), and before the night (morning) was over, I was making out with one of my hot bartender friends. And let me just say, he’s a total package. Smart, funny, very likable… and skilled in the art of kissing. Laws yes. Very skilled. We’ve always been dangerously flirtatious with one another, but never as much as that night. When I got up to leave (and I was the last to go becaue we sat around talking for about a half-hour while he did his close-out thing), he came from behind the bar and said, “Before you go…” and then he just laid one on me. Yum.
Now, my best bet is to chalk this up to both of us being drunk and horny, but this was a serious make-out session, and I want more, damnit! It both sobered me up, and made me more intoxicated at the same time. My entire body tightened in all the right places, and I’m pretty sure angels were singing. I’m tellin’ y’all, if there’s a next time, I’m doing him on one of the pool tables. Or all of them.
But enough about my almost-brush with coitus, and on to other news that you don’t care about! I’ve got two new gaymos in my life! A gay pirate, and another hot (gay) bartender! After my make-out session with hot (straight) bartender, I met some friends at another all-night hang out, and ended up having breakfast (more like lunch) with the bartender (not the hot one or the gay one), the bouncer (serial-killer creepy), and other bartender (hot, but gay), who actually bought my meal. I love it when someone else picks up the tab. I’m not used to that because I’m a control freak.
That night, I had a dream about a huge flock of ducks flying over my yard. One stopped to poop on the ground right in front of me. He pooped a lot. I’m sure my subconscious is trying to tell me something, but I’m all out of toilet paper.