The bender continues
I should not have made it a fourfer last night. But the bender continued as I went to Vida's three year anniversary party. I'm not a Vida regular or anything, but I've danced my ass off there a few times and my girl May was in the mood to go out. Anyway, a four hour happy hour later we stumble into Vida with Anna, too.
Aside from the fact that the crowd there is more attractive than most clubs, it was pretty per usual. However, it all became worth it when I saw this dude dance with his drink on his HEAD. Yeah, his head. And it wasn't just from side to side and stop. This brother was moving with that G&T. I was so impressed. I wanted to shake his hand.
I then fantasized about how cool I would be if I could balance my citron on my head. Dancing would be all the better as I could use both arms to flail like an asshole. I'm seeing people circle around me in awe and jealousy as I shake my ass with my drink on my head, maybe do a kick or ass drop and not spilling a drop. Damn, that would be tight.
So the drink on head guy also knew how to swing dance. He took Anna on the floor and was doing all these crazy moves. Hell, he flipped her three times, too. It was awesome.
Meanwhile, I chatted with a couple dudes and watched the dancing. I don't chat with strangers that often. When guys hit on me it almost never goes very well for them (that's for a lot of reasons). The main one is I bring my bitch game. I make fun of them, say the most shocking shit possible and never care that they are rich or a doctor or run some company or club or whatever.
This usually goes one of two ways (both which happened last night).
The nice guy: So the friend of the drink on head guy comes up to me and we chat. He has on a lot of tropical gear for some reason, but I could tell it would hurt his feeling if I made fun of it. So I did. He laughed it off and kept trying to talk about stuff. The conversation ender was when he asked for a hug. Since I didn't just fall off the truck, I know dudes like hugs cause they get to feel boobs. It's cool, I am fully comfortable with it. I gave the nice guy a hug and said, "If you wanted to have my boobs squished against you, why didn't you just ask?" He fained ignorance and looked offended. I rolled my eyes. He left. Back to watching dancing/drinking more.
The bitch lover: So an older (no surprise there) shaved head guy comes up to me and starts talking. I am really in bitch mode now as I am full on drunk. Anna is still dancing and I am enjoying the show. Mark gets a couple rude comments from me and smiles. And, I'm like shit, he's one of those. There is a genre of guy that really enjoy my bitchiness. That cat and mouse shit can be fun as I have run into this many times. They enjoy my tude and there is no rude comment in the world that will get them to go away. Mark is a cool guy, offered to introduce me to the owner of Angry Inch and all. The key to these types is to hurt their ego. So I told him about his astrological sign (Gemini—damn, I've been hanging with a lot of those lately) and then later started talking about how he was a Capricorn. Now, I am quite aware this is lame, but my friends, it works. He was offended that I didn't remember a conversation from 10 minutes ago and peaced out. Nice guy though.
A legit question here would be: "Hey, V, why don't you just politely say, 'I'm not interested' so you don't bother nice guys with your bitchiness?" Of course, the answer is in the question.
Final bar thoughts: I wish I was a lot thinner like most girls, but many of the skinny girls have no tits. I don't think I am willing to sacrifice. I totally understand guys who love the waifs-- the ass and legs are killer. They also get drunk really fast. It's great all around. But as I checked out the crowd last night, I was seeing more Victoria Secret than real boob. There is a balance. Damn, that must be so disappointing for guys to get the hot and drunk and skinny girl into bed and take off her top and find out she's got boy tits...that's funny stuff.