yeah i had something like this happen last night, i got 5 minutes so ill tell you the story
so there i was, in a club, at about 1am, and just for a change, i was looking good. really good. the goodest
. i wish i could sit here all day typing about how good i looked, but really, i could never do myself justice, and so with a heavy heart, ill move on
anyway, i got a message on my phone from a girl who, in the past had wanted my body, but it was one of those relationships where it never quite worked out, and by the time it could have worked out, i had kind of lost interest. so, this girl says to me "come and meet me at the bar upstairs" and so i go along and find her sitting with another girl, who i have to say, was more attractive. aaaaaaaaaaanyway, girl number 1 was dancing, making moves all over my left leg while girl number 2 was informing me that "her type" was in fact "her boyfriend", while doing the whole thigh stroking thing on my right leg under the table. i knew then and there that it was a good thing i knew how to fight
so, i decide to get the heck out of there before 1) i was seen by some of the hotter girls in the club who i had kind of arranged to see, who would probably think i have more diseases than a petri dish at the Australian Institute of Virology, and 2) girl number 2 decided to see if i had a button fly, or zipper
since i had forgotten to stuff my pants with rolled up socks before i went out. soooooooooo i get up from the table, and make the fatal error of leaning up against a rail, thinking that i could chat for a minute before conveniently needing to go to the bathroom, and get out of there...because all of a sudden girl number 2 (who had the boyfriend) was doing the whole pole dancing thing on my thigh. which was nice i suppose, but totally normal for a sex god like me, so it didnt do much for my ego
and anyway, i hear this little voice from my left shoulder (no, it wasnt the little devil saying "go for it golden, go for it son!", it was actually girl number 1 saying "you have a boyfriend, remember!" and then talking to me, she says "do you want to get out of here?"
now, normally, i would think that "lets get out of here" is polite speak for "root me baby", but in this case, the spiteful little shit (girl number 1) was ushering me away from girl number 2! (cow).
altogether it was a good thing, since i had wanted to escape in the first place, but still...women are spiteful creatures, mangs
on the bright side, the blonde italian girl was much nicer
ill tell you guys another story later, once you all get over how good i looked.
cheers
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