Back in my University days we hit the bars a lot, usually either the Friday or Saturday night of every weekend that I did not go home to visit. It was a small university town, there just wasn't that much else to do. Anyways, I kept running into this tall girl that played volleyball. We would have these drunken conversations while slow dancing (if you are a regular reader you know by now how I like to get my dance on). This continued for months until one night while dancing she informed me that her roomates were having a house party and she'd be thrilled if I would accompany her to said party. Not being the type to shy away from a good party, I was all over that invite "like stink on a monkey" (as my boss says). It made the decision even easier when she told me the address and it was literally 300 meters up the road from my apartment building, making it easier to bail if the party was lame.
We grabbed our coats and jumped in a cab. We got back to her apartment and the party was booming. People were everywhere. I walked into the kitchen and I saw this guy sitting on the floor leaning up against the sink. I'll never forget the look on his face. It was a cross between being totally spaced out and a look of complete and utter disbelief. I imagine it is what people look like after they have seen a ghost. The look haunts me to this day and I fear I will never forget it. I asked the guy if he was ok, but he did not respond. He just stared off into space. A few other people came into the kitchen and they all tried to get him to talk, he was apparently usually the life of the party. Nobody could figure out what had happened to him and he refused to talk about it. Finally the guy's best friend was retrieved and came into the kitchen and knelt down beside him. He asked him a few times what had happened and the guy just kept saying he did not want to talk about it. The best friend slapped him across the face a little harder than a joking fashion and it seemed like it snapped the guy out of his trance a bit. By this time a large group of people had gathered around this spectacle in the kitchen.
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At this point he stopped the story and looked as if he may vomit. He took a deep breath and continued "She had JUNK man, she had JUNK! She had JUNK and she put my f**king hand RIGHT ON IT!". The funniest part about this is that he was quite drunk when this took place so it would have at least been a bit of a delay for his brain to compute what indeed his hand was grabbing. Then BANG the lightbulb would have gone on and as he described it, he ripped his hand away from that disaster like it was a vat of acid. He said that for the next 10 seconds or so he kept looking at the person in the cab and trying to register that the same person indeed owned both the top part and the bottom part. From there he basically jumped out of the moving cab, landed in the street, picked himself up and started walking the rest of the way back to his place. He eventually made it home and washed his hands in the kitchen. That was when he realized he could never scrub his memory clean of this experience and he basically collapsed on the floor in shock. And that was when I happened to walk in and spot him...
Just a fun night out at the bar turned horribly wrong. His life might never be the same. That incident would flash before his eyes anytime he was with someone new wouldn't it? I am just super thankful I have never had an experience even remotely like that. The closest I have had was some amazon woman smiling at me at the bar one night. She was literally 6'2 and 180lbs. As C&C Music Factory would say "Things that make you go hmmmm...". Needless to say when I saw her walking in my direction smiling, I walked in the other direction immediately and got the heck out of there. Mama didn't raise no fool!
This weekend I am heading off to Montreal for a bachelor party, I'm sure I will have some inspiration for a blog entry as a result. Have a great Easter weekend and be safe whether it is in your travels or making out in cabs with trannies...
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