“Bar Slut”

So, last night I was down at the upstairs bar, hanging around with C. (who had just come back from Florida), L., the secret bar bartender and the tattooed bartender. When C. and L. were leaving, the bartender made a joke about me something to the extent “Now that they’re leaving, you better not get too rowdy.” To which L. replied: “Rowdy. He’s a fuckin’ bar slut. THAT’S what you have to watch out for!”

Oh man, can I help it if I’m on a bit of a roll? I’m not going to go into all the details but between the Young One and Ms. Hold ‘Em (of course) and the “Other Option” and, now, Tragedy Girl (I gotta think of a better name), I am loving the springlike weather that has turned everyone’s thoughts to love. Well, or at least lust.

Tragedy girl, whom I recently met playing pool upstairs–but whose brother I know pretty well–and I hung out Saturday down at the secret bar. And even though we spent much of the night talking about how it would be good to be friends for a while and take things slowly (in case we ever felt that we might date in the future) etc. etc. We ended up getting sufficiently drunk to–well, suffice to say the PDA’s were all over the place–in front the the secret bar’s campfire. And then again a short while later out in the parking lot by the car. Believe me, I was as surprised as anyone else. It’s funny though: for all the perversion that goes out there, for all the weird shit that happens, people still act like school children in situations like that. For example, the bar owner (who is responsible for 80% of the bar’s sordid behavior) saw me Sunday and asked with a big smirk on his face (in front of eight people I was about to have a meeting with: “Got any interesting stories from last night?” Ahhh, children.

But it was fun. I think it does a lot to kill any chance of being just buddies and I certainly don’t want to jump into dating. But we’ll see how it all plays out…

I’ll update you more later dear readers…

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