02 December 2011

Holiday Fruit Cake

Hello to all and I hope you had an excellent Thanksgiving with not too much family drama! I wish I could say mine was stellar, we’ll just leave it at I survived and sometimes that’s all you can hope for. Let’s just say I’m adding a new profession to the three I have previously listed as un-datable and that would be the putrid police officer who felt the need to ruin several peoples holiday as they were leaving the cemetery to pay respects to their loved ones. He was totally drunk with power and his ticket pad making up his own Murphy’s Law of the roadway and threatening those who tried to refute his totally illegitimate claims – well you know what dillhole, I hope your wife gets knocked up by the 20 something yr old kid working the Geek Squad because he knows how to push her buttons and you don’t!

Anyway, on to the matter of the eternal STWTG research….. I was stuck working late on the biggest drinking night of the year so I was not able to go out and get my libations infused research on with the hopes of running into the QB from my high school football team, and I’m okay with that actually. I did however go out the night after Thanksgiving and caught up with a few friends. We hit up some of the hot spots that we used to go to until the world found out how awesome they were and they got overtaken by Jersey Shore & Real Housewives of Too Many Prissy Neighborhoods rejects. It was awesome to have our martini’s by the fire pit on the rooftop of a few bars. My friends and I exchange war stories about job changes, living situation changes, what’s new in marriage/baby news with the circle of friends. All things that kept us self contained until a few out of towners tried to pull the whole ‘oh are you in town visiting family?’ number. It’s the other way around dipshit, now please walk away. You know this group of guys, they spend hours getting ready to make it seem like they just threw something on, all wearing black Kenneth Cole’s, Hollister button downs and over priced jeans that do not make their ass look grabbable – and they have enough eau de Ed Hardy knock-off on to leave that funk on your tongue and send you into a sneezing fit usually reserved for the spring pollen season. I asked our ‘friends’ what part of town they lived in and the way they cross referenced their coordinates in their obvious non local accent, I’d put them as living at least 150 miles away from where we actually are…… I later learned I was right when I got these 25 year old youngins to whip out their drivers licenses and yes, they were in fact from a few states away. The Hardy Boys were boring me to tears so our group relocated back to the neighborhood spot so we could wish our favorite bartenders a happy holiday and exchange a bit of currency for what they had stashed behind the bar.

My two friends and I are partaking in a few lemondrops to make sure the funk of the previous place was gone and over walks Generic Mike. None of us had ever seen Generic Mike even though he swears he should have his mail forwarded to the bar because he goes there so frequently. His pickup line was ‘my friends and I wanted to know which of the three of you super hot ladies are single and looking to mingle?’ Here’s a suggestion friends: if you are going to use this ‘my friends and I’ approach, don’t be at the bar alone and don’t say mingle, ever. We stared at Generic Mike in his grey NorthFace tshirt over a white thermal shirt, Old Navy Carpenter Jeans and Vans – nothing overly exciting about him at all - I was hoping for at least some funky hair fade shaved into that mop of his but no dice. Generic Mike heard me refer to the bartender by his nickname FallOut and proceeds to say that FallOut is THE coolest bartender etc etc etc. I call him out on not knowing FallOut and if need be, I’d have the bartender himself confirm this and if he was going to try to bribe FallOut to play along to just give me the cash so I could get my friends drinks made with love to mute the memory of his existence. Clearly Generic Mike was not winning me over. I asked where he lived and he changed his answer a few times throughout the night. He starts in on my super slizzered friend, she’s always looking to take on a charity case and since it is the season, she would let him salvation her army if he rang her bell just right. Generic Mike starts talking about his job in sales but won’t elaborate on what he sells; just that he is rolling in cash all the time. Okay well Scrooge McDuck, most people really don’t care about that and that sort of translates you to barely making quota. He has a killer itunes collection, a wall of shot glasses he has ‘collected’ from around the city and a few cats – ooookay. The only thing to do in this situation is keep drinking and plan your exit strategy. I go to close my tab leaving this wonder boy with my now 1 friend since myself and the other far too sober friend go to close our tabs. After we are all signed off for the night we go to say good bye to the one we were planning to leave behind to get her holly jolly on and we hear Generic Mike end his sales pitch of self with informing us that he’s great in bed because he’s all caught up on the ways of porn so our friend is in good hands, like really really good hands. Seriously who says that?! So you take care of yourself exclusively because you can’t find anyone to lick your candy cane? Wow. As I was leaving, I witnessed and exchange of digits and was thankful mine were not involved. I’ll be on the lookout for this not so wild stallion at my friends’ upcoming Christmas party and keep you posted accordingly ;-)

Point of the Conversation: If you are busting your finest move to find a part time lover for the night, don’t advertise how great you are at pleasuring yourself, unless KY sponsors you to do so – if that’s the case and you still strike out, at least go pay for a partner, it’s just more fun with someone else.

- Scarlett

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