Nice Tits and Good Conversation.

There haven’t been many moments in my life where time stands still and you ask yourself, “how the fuck did I get here.” Last night, in the women’s restroom, as I was reading “fecal face” over the shoulder of a strange girl, I realized that my shirt was slowly being pulled up. Next thing I know, she has her index finger moving up and down in my bosom. And this wasn’t even the craziest part.

The evening began with the LaSassy, Miss Curious, & Jackie-O rendezvous. Walking down the street, I noticed a girl standing in front of the tapas bar. I started to wave, hoping it was her and not some stranger who’s like, “who the fuck are you?” And it was her. We shook hands. We grinned. The conversation was comfortable, and it got even more comfortable when my mouth kept forming the word ‘yes’ when the waitress asked if we wanted another round. The conversation was so good, we decided to carry it to Delirium.

Knowing Jackie-O Marty by her writing alone, it was amazing having her right in front of me. It was like meeting your favorite musician and being able to ask him or her all the questions you’ve ever had about their song lyrics. What you can’t always get from blogging is a person’s tone. It was interesting to hear Jackie-O speak of heavy subjects in a light tone. She’d clearly been to hell and was now back and slightly numb. It was cool to get to “know” her.

After a good number of cocktails, the “I love you’s” and “you’re the best’s” came out. We even had a group hug outside with a homeless man who said he looked like Denzel Washington, and I said, “where are teeth?” In the moment the hug seemed right? Weird.

Back in the bar, I broke the pee seal… back and forth to the bathroom for me. First trip, caught a girl snorting coke. She was nice though, offered me some, I kindly refused. This brings us to the second trip… to the “fecal face” moment….

Coke girl was back in the bathroom with her friend.

“I don’t mean to sound strange, but you have a really nice bust,” I commented to Coke girl.

“Oh my god, thank you so much… I love my boobs. They’re totally real.” She exclaims and without hesitation lifts up her shirt and her bra to expose her pierced nipples and full breasts. “Feel them.”

Somewhat alarmed I say, “um, okay,” and reach for her bare breasts. They were impressive, round, firm. She asked me to feel both, and I did.

Her friend then chimes in, “whatever, my boobs are steel,” and up goes her shirt and her bra. “Feel mine,” she eagerly says.

Again, who am I to deprive, so I felt them to… massaged them really. I thought my breasts weren’t too shabby, but fuck, these girls had some NICE TITS. So there we were standing in the women’s bathroom of Delirium, both girls with their shirts up just chit-chattin’ like women do… and Steel Girl decides to lift my shirt up… no bra though, I wouldn’t have that. She then proceeds to stick her index finger in between my boobs. Up and down and up and down. And for a minute, I was like, “huh, wow, fuck, this girl is touching my boobs and I just touched hers.”

Hm, weird.

And later that night I smooched a bit with some Colorado boy who ended up dancing like a frat boy tryin’ to sandwich me and my girls. Who still does that, c’mon now!?!?

And Jackie-O Marty and LaSassy and I all said our good-byes… and hopefully Jackie-O hasn’t been scared off by the craziness that is Miss Curious. Another night in the life…
(and oh, drunk dialed DV on my way home… asked for sex in a message… one second later he calls back, hm, funny…. “I’m packing to go out of town tomorrow am, but you’re a great fuck, so let’s do that again soon.” I said ok…. I still hate him though.)