Saturday, January 5, 2008

NIGHT OF THE LIVING DRUNK

Last night my friend and I met up at a gay bar a drink(s). Though I was not there to meet any guys (promise!) I still did a curious scan of the room, totally unconsciously, mind you. While waiting for a beer, and for my friend arrive, I noticed these two, built-like-a-shit-brick-house frat boys who were practically drooling over one another. Awwww, how cute I thought.

When my friend arrived he got halfway saying hello when he stopped, and looked over my shoulder.

Me: "They're hot, right?"
Friend: "OMG, look his fucking arms!"
Me: "I know right, they scare the shit out of me."
Friend: "They are so hot."
Me: "....."

Eventually my friend was able to turn his attention to the bartender (whom, according to said friend, used to, or still is a gay porn star). While he did that, some guy came up to me and asked:

Random Guy: "Hey, you look just like this guy who used to work out at (fill-in-the-blank) Gym".
Me: "Oh, well, that's probably because I actually do work out there."
Random Guy: "I know, I saw you there last Monday."
Me: "....."

Um, well then. I am sure he was just being friendly, but that was a little creepy too. Maybe he was just drunk. Oh well. Friend got his drink and we looked for a place to sit, and the only open seats were next to the Huge Frat Boy Dudes.

I asked one of the HFBD's if anyone was sitting in these particular seats, and one of them just grunted a "NAW" at me and shot me a look of death. I took that as a sign that the seats were open...

Friend and I caught up on things, but I must say, I was distracted due to one of the HFBD's enormous elbows that kept poking me in my back. Friend was also distracted by the Public Display of Affection Floor Show going on behind me.

At one point friend's eyes got all big, so I knew I had to rotate on my seat, and try to casually glance at what was transpiring behind me. The taller (and more handsome one) had his hand down the other dude's pants! Get a room!

Haha, actually, it was this point that I realized I was providing them with "coverage" so no one could see what they were up to. Glad I could be of assistance dudes! They stopped the PDA Floor Show long enough to order another round, and at this point I realized how drunk they were.

How drunk were they? The Hotter HFBD was drinking bourbon on the rocks and doing shots of Jagermeister. Ugh! It all make sense soon enough...when a few minutes later the Hotter HFBD taps me on the shoulder and asks me if I smoke. I say yes and offer a Camel Light, which he clumsily grabs.

Hotter HFBD: "THANK YA MAN...REALLY DO 'PREACH-E-ATE IT." (I'm not good at approximating loud drunken Southern accents in prose, so bare with me)
Me: "No worries man, enjoy."
Hotter HFBD: "SMOKE WIT ME...C'MON, GIT."
Me: "....."

So here I am smoking with this enormous, drunk, slurring mess of a Southerner on the street. We talk about something, not sure what, for approximately 30 seconds when this guy, previously standing in line to get into the Jazz Club next store, approaches us.

He asks me for a cigarette (am I the only one who buys their own? Jeez!) and I give him one, then he totally ignores me while striking up a conversation with the Hotter HFBG. They are both from the South, and, not surprisingly, both love college football.

Hotter HFBG: "I USED 'TA PLAY CAWLLAGE BAWL."
Trendy Eyeglass Wearing Gay Jazz Patron: "Oh, really, what position?"
Me: (please say Tight End, please say Tight End): "You played ball?"
Hotter HFBG: "YUP, SURE DID, WAS A WIDE RECEIVER."
Me: (even better, even better): "Nice, you must be a fast runner." (shut the fuck up Justin, shut the fuck up)
Trendy Eyeglass Wearing Gay Jazz Patron: "What did you think of the (fill-in-the-blank-college-bowl game)?"

At this point I had to disassociate myself from the conversation, since I don't follow college football. More importantly, I had to prevent a wobbly, drunk, 240+lb man from falling into the plate glass window behind us.

Hotter HFBD eventually decided the best way to keep from falling over was to embrace me in an awkward bear hug of sorts. Keep in mind, I weigh about 158lb soaking wet, this was no easy task.

Eventually, we finished smoking, and the Trendy Eyeglass Wearing Gay Jazz Patron wished us a good night, and said to me "maybe I'll see you in there [the gay bar] sometime". Riiight...

Once back inside Hotter HFBD was prevented re-entry because the bar staff determined he was too drunk. His friend quickly rushed up with his coat and and dragged him out the door. Have fun dragging that drunk ass home!

Shit, and to think, just a few hours prior I had planned to stay home and read a book.

8 comments:

Pete said...

Hmmm... Florence Nightingale to the drunk ;-)... must have been a laugh. Sure beats a book!

james said...

ha! what a story. i have to start hanging out there...

K said...

LOL.....southern accents are hilarious!

I should know....graduating from UF and all....hehe!

Soul Seared Dreamer said...

Happy New Year Jus.

Sounds like a great night. Nice way to start the year.

Closeted said...

It's a good thing you didn't stay home...haha. I wonder what a southern accent sounds like when drunk...lol

Chicago's Bi Guy said...

Sounds like a great night... You should have found out if you would have went home with those hot frat guys. Oh and just how "big" were his arms.. LOL

dan said...

great story, sorry you having to provide chicago with cigarrettes buddy. ha. and yes much better than a book. later.

J.R. said...

Giant former football players hanging all over you doesn't sound like a bad night at all!

Nothing Golden Stays