Help me please!
If you find me somewhere, and in my vicinity there is a bottle of beer, then you are likely to find some cigarettes too on my person. So I am strolling the Choices "underground", lighting a cigarette. I stop by a pool table where two ladies are playing. A gentleman is watching from the sidelines. One of the ladies, very often after shooting the ball, would go to the guy and engage him in some long conversation. The other lady got pissed. Out of the blue she dismantled the game, grabbed the cue from the chic and shoved it to my face. Hi! Can we play? I want to play and all this ***** wants is to hug and kiss.
Yeah, of course. The guy comes off his stool and now wants to beat me. The two chics are at each others throats. Anyway, the chic who wants to play comes and shoves the guy out of my face. We start playing. My game is tremendous. Conversation gets into high gear. We start dancing, seductively, as we shoot. After about 5 games, I realised I had disappeared for too long. Man, the chic does not want to let me go! She's clutched me like a vice. I do the big sister thing, talk some nice things, rub her back all the time re-assuring her I will be right back.
I shoot off before Samborera and the two chics leave. OK. Everyone is bored. So we make towards the door. The women are hungry. We eat. The DJ changes the music. Wow! No one is no longer interested in leaving. We shuffle back in.
The 21 year old now really turned on the heat. Some nasty stuff, right in front of everyone. The memory is stuck like a broken record. I will not bore you with the details.
Later, I met the previous chic. Her buddies had left her. She was complaining that after taking them out for treat (and producing some 7,000 bob of what was left as evidence!), they had abandoned her. She is clinging to me, wants to buy me drinks and after that I escort her home in a cab because she does not trust cab drivers. I did not want to ask what would happen after we reached her place. The answer was in her eyes, her tone of voice. She was about 28. Cute. I said no (politely) and went to the 21 year old firestorm. Too much woman for me in the 21 year old. I wonder what she will be capable of at 25?
It is dangerous out there.
posted by 0.5 @ 21:43
3 Comments:
Now, now, now. Why didn't you mention that you had met a chic who wanted you to go home with her? I could have told the chics that you were tired and had gone home, or something. That's a huge tragedy. C'est dommage.
The 21 year old can't help your life. A 28 year old on the other hand ... with 7K to spare. Please tell me you got her number ...
No, did not get her number. I WILLED myself not to get her number. Not bright, now that I have the benefit of hindsight.
Perhaps we shall meet again.
But its all good, I fear women who have a lot of money anyway. Who in their right mind can have about 7K to spend in one one day on the 21st of a month?
No, its not working. I should have grabbed that number.
Ok. Sometimes having a number can be painful, but I for one like pain. That's the only logical thing that I can think of for choosing to do programming for a living.
As it happens, she'll probably be back at Choices. I know there's
a chic I met there who I'd like to see again. Hmmmm. Perhaps we should hang out there more.
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