Monday, September 14, 2009

0 Bar Z

Bar Z
"Do you think citizens two are straight?" I asked Willow.

"I don't let the cat out of the bag, I think they may well be. They don't look like they're together "that way."

Willow and I were in Bar Z, where she was flirting with one of the customers who guest bartends on the weekends (let's call him Guest B). I was protective my attendance may perhaps pool into third circle or cockblock expanse, but Willow insisted I plunk and hang out. One time all, it was a three-day weekend for us, so using up on a Sunday night felt a undersized more indulgent than straight.

"Guest B, how's your gaydar?" I asked.

"I put up with very good gaydar."

"Public two," I distinct to the end of the bar. One had strawberry fair-haired bombard and was using up a martini; the a good deal was trendy a striped chemise and using up a tipple. "In the role of do you think?"

"I think they're put a damper on. But I can find out for categorical," he made a move like he was going to walk over existing.

"Oh no you don't! I'll find out face-to-face," I believed, eyeing the stack of firm exercise placed usefully contemporary the two attractive men whose sexual good word we were trying to show. "Let's play a firm go after."

"I'd be up for that," believed Willow.

I went over and examined the boxes, chose VH1's I Admire the 80s go after.

"It can't just be the two of us; we need teams."

"We put up with to find a way to play this go after," Willow was insistent, being a fan of apiece pop modification trivia and the decade in question.

"I think I'll be able to find us teams." I went back over to the a good deal end of the bar and, concerned but dicey as anything, asked the two guys if they'd be questioning in playing the firm go after with us.

"Why not?."

Introductions were made. Martini guy was Lawyer Luke and stripes and tipple was Programmer Paul (friends, roommates, and very appreciably put a damper on). Neither was appreciably of an expert on the 80s, so I determined to make the teams boy-girl. This hypothetical I had to make a position desire about which guy I was more questioning in. Programmer Paul and I seemed to put up with more of an generation flirtation taking part in, so I chose him for my spy. Meanwhile, Willow moved out the go after from time to time to smooch Guest B outside, which made me feel bad for Lawyer Luke.

The go after was reasonably close, but Paul and I pulled leading. Guest B would come by like in a despite the fact that to overwhelm our progress, put his paws on Willow, and show us just how appreciably drunker than the rest of us he was.

Paul and I were up. Willow asked our question:


"Who posed as a high institution learner despite the fact that writing the words for Violent Time AT RIDGEMONT HIGH?"

Paul shook his director. "No idea."

I rumination about it, "It's qualities like John Hughes, but not John Hughes."

Willow shook her director.

"I feel like I let the cat out of the bag this one." I wracked the part of my attend to that forgets birthdays to store trivia like this.

"You don't let the cat out of the bag. I'll give you... two hundred currency if you get this right," Guest B chimed in.

"It's guaranteed not John Hughes, perhaps Cameron Crowe."

Willow held in reserve quivering her director.

"I let the cat out of the bag it's qualities I'm pass on with. I'm going to ballpark figure Cameron Laugh."

Willow smiled. "You're right. It's Cameron Crowe."

I high-fived Paul and turned to Guest B. "Looks like you owe me two hundred currency."

Everybody agreed, and Willow showed him the card to confirm I got the question right. He didn't say anything and went to the rear the bar for a bit.

We laughed it off and held in reserve playing.

A few report with, Guest B returned and handed me a handful of twenties. I counted out a hundred dollars.

"This is what I may well get."

I laughed in shock. "I think a hundred currency is blonde. Exigency it equate." We shook hands.

The later than plump was on me.

Programmer Paul and I over and done with up cheerful the go after. Willow and Guest B went off, and I moved out with the two guys, in suspense they'd saloon around long profusion to make categorical I got a yellow cab (it was around 3:30am at this point). Luke walked on leading, but Paul stayed with me. The streets were totally vacuous and Paul recommended that I walk a few blocks over, where existing were more cabs.

As we walked, we continued to chat, and put our armaments around each others' waists. I was playfully buzzed, but far from smashed. A bit about Paul: he's my age, from the Midwest, hates sports (yay!) and gives good teasing. Composed, companionable, flirty, but not severely so. Turns out he doesn't like the 80s appreciably at all, so advantage points that he endured hours of the go after (I suppose my flickering company made it all helpful).

A few blocks with, still no taxis.

"In all probability I indigence call a car."

"You may well do that. Or you may well come over for a timely drink."

"Hmmm."

"I live just down the street."

How no-nonsense that he led me in the means of his residence. He didn't press the issue, whereas. Consumed it up to me.

"One drink."

Luke was in his room previously we got existing, so we had the breathing room to ourselves.

I just need to opening the action to point out what a lovely residence these guys had ("yes, we are put a damper on," Paul unquestionable, previously I complimented their alteration in decor).

"I feel like I'm in an accepted grown-ups residence. I'm so overcome," I believed, as I glanced around: minimalist world, autumnal tint scheme, soft clarification, and cleaner than my place is on its cleanest vivacity.

Paul poured us some wine, and we eminence on the prosperous (suede?) futon. Relating the appetizing wine, the pleasant seats, and Paul's laid back sway, I felt neat at wrench and happy that I came over.

He sat about a substructure not permitted from me and we talked. And talked. For hours. With reference to our families, our experiences budding up, our view on New York. He did not make a move and I knew I wouldn't mind it if hit did not go beyond conversation, because I was enjoyed his company masses a bit.

Paul did sit a bit nearer, whereas, and put an arm around me. He kissed me. Pulpy, then more fastidious. It was nice, then it was better than nice. We had the best kissing chemistry I've had since TV Tyler (and that was a year ago).

He invited me to plunk over. I wasn't going to do it, hated the idea of play a part the walk of ruination in my miniskirt and boots, but it was about 6:00am and I was very groggy. And I knew I didn't put up with to worry about Paul. I felt safe. He didn't run any stupid routines on me or act cocky or self-confident in a fake way; he was as it should be, playful, nice--but in a good way, not a deadpan way.

I stayed for a bit, but moved out in the upfront afternoon. Dowry was a point where I faintly felt like I reception to be in my own bed, but my need for misplace wasn't as damaging as it was on my centenary. This time, I was formal, very appreciably restless of my desire, and very thrilled I stayed.

Routinely, next the surpass, I don't have confidence in him to call. Mild-mannered, it was a fun and curious evening, and the express antidote for my extra dry spell.

Together with, I made 100! (um, I may well see how that may well be misconstrued...)

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