Mardi Gras
I should have brought my tape recorder with me.
NOTE: Dylan and Cabbie don't get to read this one.
St. Louis's Mardi Gras grand parade was Saturday, and I went down to the parade and other festivities with my friend Nataly (Not Not the Dirty Sanchez). After drinking for several hours, we found ourselves at the bar of a crappy little hole in the wall, and I wound up talking to the dude next to me and giving him directions to places while Nat was talking to others. I must admit that I felt a little dirty just talking to this guy--TOTAL hoosier-looking guy with few teeth, multiple neck tatoos, and a general meth- and porn-addicted look about him. Meanwhile, his wife was standing behind me gently slapping my inner thigh with a very thin strand of beads. However, I didn't feel it because, well, because I'd been drinking for several hours. As he and I turn around to talk to her, she coyly asks what's wrong with me that I didn't say anything about her slapping my thigh with beads. For whatever reason (read: hours of alcohol) and not at all expecting her to believe me, I proceeded to tell her that I have some nerve damage below the waist ("It's a neuropathy!") and as a consequence don't feel much in my legs.
Here is where I wish I had a recording. The dude looks at my friend Nat and says "You guys look like you'd be fun to party with." I respond by naively saying "Yeah, man, we're totally cool to party with," thinking that, at most, this will obligate me to have another beer or two at the bar with the guy (who was entertaining my drunk ass). Due to noise and intoxication, I couldn't hear him for a sentence or two, so I just nodded my head and said "Yeah, sure" while I ordered us a round. Then, I realized that he was telling me about swingers, more specifically the other swingers in his and his wife's swingers club whom he is supposed to meet at some other bar--and whom I have just agreed to "meet" with my friend Nat.
Yes, that's right. For the first time in my life, I was propositioned by swingers. Moreover, not only did I unknowingly agree to participate, I committed my friend Nataly to it without her consent.
I wish I could write how I got out of going to the other bar to "meet" their friends, but for the life of my I don't remember. I will swear on a stack of Bibles that we did not go. As they were leaving, the wife (who was prettier than I would have thought a swinger wife would have a right to be), grabbed ahold of me from behind and, when I jumped up a bit, said "Nerve damage, my ass."
NOTE: Dylan and Cabbie don't get to read this one.
St. Louis's Mardi Gras grand parade was Saturday, and I went down to the parade and other festivities with my friend Nataly (Not Not the Dirty Sanchez). After drinking for several hours, we found ourselves at the bar of a crappy little hole in the wall, and I wound up talking to the dude next to me and giving him directions to places while Nat was talking to others. I must admit that I felt a little dirty just talking to this guy--TOTAL hoosier-looking guy with few teeth, multiple neck tatoos, and a general meth- and porn-addicted look about him. Meanwhile, his wife was standing behind me gently slapping my inner thigh with a very thin strand of beads. However, I didn't feel it because, well, because I'd been drinking for several hours. As he and I turn around to talk to her, she coyly asks what's wrong with me that I didn't say anything about her slapping my thigh with beads. For whatever reason (read: hours of alcohol) and not at all expecting her to believe me, I proceeded to tell her that I have some nerve damage below the waist ("It's a neuropathy!") and as a consequence don't feel much in my legs.
Here is where I wish I had a recording. The dude looks at my friend Nat and says "You guys look like you'd be fun to party with." I respond by naively saying "Yeah, man, we're totally cool to party with," thinking that, at most, this will obligate me to have another beer or two at the bar with the guy (who was entertaining my drunk ass). Due to noise and intoxication, I couldn't hear him for a sentence or two, so I just nodded my head and said "Yeah, sure" while I ordered us a round. Then, I realized that he was telling me about swingers, more specifically the other swingers in his and his wife's swingers club whom he is supposed to meet at some other bar--and whom I have just agreed to "meet" with my friend Nat.
Yes, that's right. For the first time in my life, I was propositioned by swingers. Moreover, not only did I unknowingly agree to participate, I committed my friend Nataly to it without her consent.
I wish I could write how I got out of going to the other bar to "meet" their friends, but for the life of my I don't remember. I will swear on a stack of Bibles that we did not go. As they were leaving, the wife (who was prettier than I would have thought a swinger wife would have a right to be), grabbed ahold of me from behind and, when I jumped up a bit, said "Nerve damage, my ass."
posted by Not Jennifer Gibbs at 2/27/2006
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