True story, friends. [Those of you on the Brain Trust, this will be all too familiar.] At a bar last night (turns out The Situation was there, too. His presence may have heightened my appearance and latent sexual primacy in juxtaposition) looking sharp as a tack. Boogeying a bit, not with anyone but just dancing my little ass off. Pause in music, a sip of my drink, and a halt in my rug-cutting. Two chicks roll over, both pretty cute (not fantastic, but not faces for radio) and greet me (yes, me!) with "Hi, sexy." One is from LA, so that adds to my intranational cred, no doubt. We talk briefly, discussing the pros and cons of Los Angeles and it's environs, then they head off to destinations unknown, departing with an "It was a pleasure to meet you. You're sexy."
Hell yes it was a good night. My ego could not fit through the door. Obvious fire hazard.
they didnt even ask you for a threesome?
ReplyDeleteSummary:
ReplyDeletePoelhuis was dancing, and then some girls talked to him. The End.
You don't like my literary, Toups-esque flair? And it was a pretty dynamic talking-to. They came to ME!
ReplyDeleteI may or may not be the only one excited about my story. Shit.
I think it's a lovely story. (okay, maybe not "lovely" but pick an adjective) It must be that slightly graying hair that makes you oh so sexy. Girls like older men, ya know. haha
ReplyDeletevery true maria, girls do like older men.
ReplyDeleteFor us men, we like younger women like Hannah Montana or Furman's sister.
ReplyDeleteThe SoCal gals might have just been trying to determine whether you are a cunning linguist
ReplyDelete