Success on all counts.
A) I saw Grant at happy hour and, despite the fact that I basically walked into a trashcan, I managed to play it cool and just give him a friendly wave.
B) While out on Thursday night I found myself in VIP with bottle service with some old coworkers and I met two new hot boy friends. One, who right now doesn't really matter, and Eric. A blue eyed bad boy with a wicked smile and sense of humor. He worked pretty hard to keep my attention and, not only did he ask for my number, but he also used it. He used it to send me sweet nothings and make plans for the next night.
C) About that next night. There was a rave at one of the bars so after I went to happy hour, dinner and drinks with Marie, I met up with Eric and my girls and went down, dressed in a blindingly neon green shirt and sunglasses. Because I wear sunglasses at night. Because I'm a douchebag.
Now, for the record, I haven't been to a rave since I went through my... precarious party phase in New York. And I don't really rage like that anymore so I went thinking I'd have a few drinks, dance under the strobe light, head home early.
NOT THE CASE.
I had a few drinks, danced under the strobe light, fell down some stairs, raged like a true raver, ended up on stage at some point, got yelled at by the bouncer and, at around 2:30, blitzed out of my mind, left with Eric.
First we went back to Eric's friends house to listen to a really weird mix of music and do vodka shots and be weird. Left around 6 am. Went to Eric's where I promptly demanded to be horizontal and opted out of a shower so I could climb into bed.
Probably a bad idea. I was so dirty.
I had god only knows what in my hair, I was sweaty, covered in booze and neon paint and I looked worse than I've looked in a loooong time. But when Eric got back from his shower none of that dirtiness stopped him from jumping right into bed with me. At first, respecting the post rave exhaustion, he just cuddled and rubbed my back. Once I'd slept a while we began to play.
No sex but a lot of fun.
In the morning we realized that, having left his bike in town we had no trans so Eric starts to text his nearby friends to see if anyone will give us a ride. And we're snuggling and I can see him texting and I notice that he's talking to someone named Skip.
Yup.
Skip.
My Skipper.
And here Eric is... asking him to come pick us up. So I mention that maybe, just maybe, that's not the greatest idea. Because I know him.
In the biblical sense.
And this it hits me. This is Eric. This is Skipper's best friend Eric. Who Skip has told me about in detail. HIS BEST FRIEND. So of course immediately Eric tells Skip that he's with me.
Radio Silence.
Apparently Skipper didn't want to sleep with me anymore... but he also didn't want his friends to either...
Oops.
I mean... what's the protocol for something like this? What does whore etiquette dictate for accidental best friend seducing?
The good news is that being Eskimo buddies with Skip doesn't seem to bother Eric.
We ended up calling a cab and I got redressed in my neon green dress, looked at myself in the mirror and tried, in vain, to pull myself together into some semblance of normalcy. Because I looked like shit. On top of the previous nights mess I now had bed head and some serious pillow marks.
Plus you know how after you've raged you wake up with everything looking different. Like your eyes are dull and your skin is gross looking and you smell like death.
Yeah.
That.
So I threw on some emergency makeup, tried to tame my hair into a bun and walked out in a slutty slutty rave outfit.
Neon Walk Of Shame.
When I stopped to get cash out it was mortifying. I'm dressed like a fucking highlighter and everybody is staring at me. A bright light of shame. Or game. Either one.
Anyways, I think it might have been worth the shame because I found a fun playmate for, hopefully, the rest of the summer. I thought that, like most boys, he would just sort of disappear. That once I was out of sight I'd be out his thoughts too. But no. It's Sunday and ever since I left his side yesterday I've had a constant stream of lovely messages from him and he has been quite convincing in trying me to come over. I mean he promised me a back massage! Thats some serious willpower kryptonite. But luckily for my dignity I have no trans. I'm trying to make him work for it.
Wish me luck, lovelies.
xxKK
Yup.
Skip.
My Skipper.
And here Eric is... asking him to come pick us up. So I mention that maybe, just maybe, that's not the greatest idea. Because I know him.
In the biblical sense.
And this it hits me. This is Eric. This is Skipper's best friend Eric. Who Skip has told me about in detail. HIS BEST FRIEND. So of course immediately Eric tells Skip that he's with me.
Radio Silence.
Apparently Skipper didn't want to sleep with me anymore... but he also didn't want his friends to either...
Oops.
I mean... what's the protocol for something like this? What does whore etiquette dictate for accidental best friend seducing?
The good news is that being Eskimo buddies with Skip doesn't seem to bother Eric.
We ended up calling a cab and I got redressed in my neon green dress, looked at myself in the mirror and tried, in vain, to pull myself together into some semblance of normalcy. Because I looked like shit. On top of the previous nights mess I now had bed head and some serious pillow marks.
Plus you know how after you've raged you wake up with everything looking different. Like your eyes are dull and your skin is gross looking and you smell like death.
Yeah.
That.
So I threw on some emergency makeup, tried to tame my hair into a bun and walked out in a slutty slutty rave outfit.
Neon Walk Of Shame.
When I stopped to get cash out it was mortifying. I'm dressed like a fucking highlighter and everybody is staring at me. A bright light of shame. Or game. Either one.
Anyways, I think it might have been worth the shame because I found a fun playmate for, hopefully, the rest of the summer. I thought that, like most boys, he would just sort of disappear. That once I was out of sight I'd be out his thoughts too. But no. It's Sunday and ever since I left his side yesterday I've had a constant stream of lovely messages from him and he has been quite convincing in trying me to come over. I mean he promised me a back massage! Thats some serious willpower kryptonite. But luckily for my dignity I have no trans. I'm trying to make him work for it.
Wish me luck, lovelies.
xxKK
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