Boogie Woogie
Sunday evenings are typically uneventful and quiet, which is a welcome reprieve before hitting the gym and daily grind come Monday morning. Bed sounded particularly enticing last night as KS and I had spent a downright gorgeous day at the beach playing hooky from church. We bladed along the shore a bit and then camped out on the beach for a picnic, manicure, and tanning. We arrived home sun-kissed and sleepy thus I had no plans for partying later on.
A two hour nap and lounging about the house did nothing to improve my energy: JB, JC and several others called wanting to play and I refused them all. I was on the high road to a good night's sleep in preperation for an early morning run when SB, an old chum from high school, called. And so our story begins...
SB works at a nearby club and usually works Sun. nights but due to a scheduling mix up had last night off. Apparently two White Sox players frequent the joint when they're in town and both know SB pretty well. She expected them to be at the club last night and asked if I would like to meet up and play for a while. I declined at first since I knew I'd be out till dawn if I went. Unfortunately, I was getting my second wind after the nap and was thus feeling energized and awake. I also blow SB off quite often and was thus feeling guilty about doing so yet again. Against my better judgment I called her back and said I would play for a bit.
Some high points from the club:
Troy, a construction worker, played prince charming for all of 10 minutes and then bumped into me randomly as SB and I perused the floor. He later gave me his number when it became clear that I would not give him mine and was astute enough (even through all those Millers!) to note that I would probably not be calling: smart boy!
Christie, a gorgeous young thing in size zero jeans and a curvaceous D on top, gave SB and I a shot while working her beer tub. I later inquired if she'd had them done and of course she had. Note to self: if you get work done at least keep it realistic.
Lewis, the deejay, gave me a backrub and a good-bye slap on the ass along with SB: I later learned he's married. Some boys never grow up....
Dave, a competitive body builder or something like that, who once had it bad for SB, offered to take me for a ride in his vette: very nice. Unfortunately, as we pulled out of the parking lot, he informed me that he had taken X for the first time that evening (albeit he said it was much earlier, around 8p, so the effects had worn off) which he quickly followed with "but I never do drugs". Yah, sure pal. I was somewhat terrified and held my breath/prayed as we went for a nice easy drive around the mall's perimeter. Dave talked about himself and his ex and dropped me off sans incident at SB's car wherein she lay passed out in the passenger seat.
I exited upon Dave's assurance that he would stay with SB until she sobered up enough to drive. 20 min. later I was showered and in bed but oh did I pay this morning: so much for the work out. Note to self: party hard = pay come morning. The Sox player's never showed but the evening was entertaining and memorable nonetheless.
A two hour nap and lounging about the house did nothing to improve my energy: JB, JC and several others called wanting to play and I refused them all. I was on the high road to a good night's sleep in preperation for an early morning run when SB, an old chum from high school, called. And so our story begins...
SB works at a nearby club and usually works Sun. nights but due to a scheduling mix up had last night off. Apparently two White Sox players frequent the joint when they're in town and both know SB pretty well. She expected them to be at the club last night and asked if I would like to meet up and play for a while. I declined at first since I knew I'd be out till dawn if I went. Unfortunately, I was getting my second wind after the nap and was thus feeling energized and awake. I also blow SB off quite often and was thus feeling guilty about doing so yet again. Against my better judgment I called her back and said I would play for a bit.
Some high points from the club:
Troy, a construction worker, played prince charming for all of 10 minutes and then bumped into me randomly as SB and I perused the floor. He later gave me his number when it became clear that I would not give him mine and was astute enough (even through all those Millers!) to note that I would probably not be calling: smart boy!
Christie, a gorgeous young thing in size zero jeans and a curvaceous D on top, gave SB and I a shot while working her beer tub. I later inquired if she'd had them done and of course she had. Note to self: if you get work done at least keep it realistic.
Lewis, the deejay, gave me a backrub and a good-bye slap on the ass along with SB: I later learned he's married. Some boys never grow up....
Dave, a competitive body builder or something like that, who once had it bad for SB, offered to take me for a ride in his vette: very nice. Unfortunately, as we pulled out of the parking lot, he informed me that he had taken X for the first time that evening (albeit he said it was much earlier, around 8p, so the effects had worn off) which he quickly followed with "but I never do drugs". Yah, sure pal. I was somewhat terrified and held my breath/prayed as we went for a nice easy drive around the mall's perimeter. Dave talked about himself and his ex and dropped me off sans incident at SB's car wherein she lay passed out in the passenger seat.
I exited upon Dave's assurance that he would stay with SB until she sobered up enough to drive. 20 min. later I was showered and in bed but oh did I pay this morning: so much for the work out. Note to self: party hard = pay come morning. The Sox player's never showed but the evening was entertaining and memorable nonetheless.
posted by Princess Rae at 7:43 AM
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