Sunday, March 14, 2010
Before I start I need to pass along the most important lesson learned last night. Kamikazes are, and always have been, bad bad news. Those innocent little shots that bring with them the utter disregard of rational thinking. I love them, I hate them, and I normally stay as far away as possible from them. They make me crazy and the next day they make me pay.
Now, you might ask, how did I relearn this important lesson?
My roommate’s girlfriend went to the theatre Saturday night. Now Ashley, who just said ‘use my real name damnit’, absolutely, hates the theatre. So she decided it was time for one of her so called nights out. You could say we are out every night but when she gets this look in her eye it is something special she has in mind. She first came up with this back in our college days and we have been doing it off and on ever since. Put on our best black, pull on our best boots, and roam from bar to bar looking for nothing more than the sheer entertainment found in the minds of our fellow human creatures. OK I’m pretty much talking guys here.
It’s not that we pick on people or anything like that. More like careful observation of our surroundings. I like to think of it as being psychologically playful. Now, like me, Ash has never been with a guy and has pretty much always known that she was gay. But she attracts straight guys like a moth to a flame with about the same result. I, on the other hand, seem to give off a ‘touch me and you die’ vibe.
Even with my hair down and my best bartending smile on my face, when I am with her I get nothing but ‘excuse me but who is your friend?’ type comments which put a nice scowl on my face. Or I get hit on by the middle aged soft-core porn producer in a JC Penney suit guys.
So in the end I feel like the jilted lover and now I’m pretty adept at playing that part. And that’s where the fun comes in. But that’s another story!
I think I'm burning a chicken ....