Bar Bathroom Philosophers
So Sunshine and I went a-bar-hoppin' tonight afterwork.
I'm just a little tipsy, not much though, and I had a thought I wanted tp jot down before I completely sober up.
Every single time I go to a bar and have more than 2 drinks, I meet someone new in the bathroom and have my own mini adventures. Every single time.
Last time we went out, I met some 60-year-old woman in line for the toilet and was telling her all about how I work with a bunch of cops with big guns until Sunshine caught me and drug me back to our table.
That same night I met a nice young lady in a QT bathroom and had a lengthy conversation with her (while we were both relieving ourselves in our respected stalls) about sugar daddies. I believe it went something like this:
Her - "My Dad is my Mom's sugar daddy. He's twenty years older than her."
Me - "Yeah. I want one of those. Where do you find sugar daddies anyway?"
Her - "I don't know." I think I remember a thoughtful pause right about here. "But if you find one, point his brother in my direction."
Me - "Totally."
Tonight, I wasn't nearly as drunk as I was on both those occasions but I still managed to make some friends on my solo trip to the porceilein god. There was like...a gagillion scantilly clad chicks standing in line around me when this one girl with a zebra head-band said something to me about using the guy's bathroom instead. I full heartily agreed. We rationalized that not only would we probably be welcomed in the penis arena but would probably earn ourselves a few drinks as well.
The drunk chick (who was seriously fucked up) on the other side of me started talking really loudly about the people currently using the only two stalls in the restroom "taking for fucking ever." Me, I agreed but I wasn't about to start yelling about peeing like a speeding bullet like she was.
Instead I started yapping with Zebra-Headband again about how we could probably turn our Oh-God-I-Have-To-Pee squirming into the hottest new dance move and still earn more drinks for it. Then Drunk Chick behind me shoved her drink in my face.
"You have to try this."
I stared from her to it to her again.
"What is it?"
"Sex on the beach."
"Always wanted to try that." I giggled 'cause in my mind the double meaning was hilarious.
But outside of my head it apparently wasn't that funny 'cause Drunk Chick just stared at me until I carefully took a sip of her drink.
In retrospect I could have contracted about a gazillion diseases, but in my almost drunk state, I didn't really know what else to do. (Don't try this at home kids.)
"It's good."
"It's fucking awesome. I mean I like beer but this...this you know is like...I just like it more."
I nodded sage-like as if she'd just said the brightest thing I'd heard since the Tao of Pooh and very slowly turned to Zebra-headband so as not to attract DrunkChick's attention again.
Someone once told me I am flypaper for freaks. While I agree on some levels, I think amending the observation to "flypaper for bar bathroom philosophers" would be more accurate. But hey, I'm not complaining.
PS
We spotted this guy tonight that looked like that William Wong dude from American Idol. The one that butchered that Ricky Martin song so freakin' badly.
Sunshine didn't want to get our picture taken with him. But I'll get you next time William Wong. I'll get you.
I'm just a little tipsy, not much though, and I had a thought I wanted tp jot down before I completely sober up.
Every single time I go to a bar and have more than 2 drinks, I meet someone new in the bathroom and have my own mini adventures. Every single time.
Last time we went out, I met some 60-year-old woman in line for the toilet and was telling her all about how I work with a bunch of cops with big guns until Sunshine caught me and drug me back to our table.
That same night I met a nice young lady in a QT bathroom and had a lengthy conversation with her (while we were both relieving ourselves in our respected stalls) about sugar daddies. I believe it went something like this:
Her - "My Dad is my Mom's sugar daddy. He's twenty years older than her."
Me - "Yeah. I want one of those. Where do you find sugar daddies anyway?"
Her - "I don't know." I think I remember a thoughtful pause right about here. "But if you find one, point his brother in my direction."
Me - "Totally."
Tonight, I wasn't nearly as drunk as I was on both those occasions but I still managed to make some friends on my solo trip to the porceilein god. There was like...a gagillion scantilly clad chicks standing in line around me when this one girl with a zebra head-band said something to me about using the guy's bathroom instead. I full heartily agreed. We rationalized that not only would we probably be welcomed in the penis arena but would probably earn ourselves a few drinks as well.
The drunk chick (who was seriously fucked up) on the other side of me started talking really loudly about the people currently using the only two stalls in the restroom "taking for fucking ever." Me, I agreed but I wasn't about to start yelling about peeing like a speeding bullet like she was.
Instead I started yapping with Zebra-Headband again about how we could probably turn our Oh-God-I-Have-To-Pee squirming into the hottest new dance move and still earn more drinks for it. Then Drunk Chick behind me shoved her drink in my face.
"You have to try this."
I stared from her to it to her again.
"What is it?"
"Sex on the beach."
"Always wanted to try that." I giggled 'cause in my mind the double meaning was hilarious.
But outside of my head it apparently wasn't that funny 'cause Drunk Chick just stared at me until I carefully took a sip of her drink.
In retrospect I could have contracted about a gazillion diseases, but in my almost drunk state, I didn't really know what else to do. (Don't try this at home kids.)
"It's good."
"It's fucking awesome. I mean I like beer but this...this you know is like...I just like it more."
I nodded sage-like as if she'd just said the brightest thing I'd heard since the Tao of Pooh and very slowly turned to Zebra-headband so as not to attract DrunkChick's attention again.
Someone once told me I am flypaper for freaks. While I agree on some levels, I think amending the observation to "flypaper for bar bathroom philosophers" would be more accurate. But hey, I'm not complaining.
PS
We spotted this guy tonight that looked like that William Wong dude from American Idol. The one that butchered that Ricky Martin song so freakin' badly.
Sunshine didn't want to get our picture taken with him. But I'll get you next time William Wong. I'll get you.
Labels: Drunken Adventures
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on 17.6.06 at 1:40 AM.
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