Good Evening, Gentleman.
Saturday Night I did something I haven’t done in years. I went bar hopping. I wanted to spend time with my best friend FTCT before I headed down to Gulf Shores, AL for a week of lounging on the beach with Mistress.
I haven’t gone bar hopping since Mistress and I have been together because she is not old enough to get into bars. She will turn 21 in July of this year. The reason I haven’t been going to bars is because I believe in holding myself to the same standards I hold my woman to. I’m not into the “Girl’s Night Out” thing because I’ve taken advantage of too many attatched women who were out on GNO. I do trust Mistress, but her chick friends from High School are slutty as Hell and will pretty much try to hook her up with guys over the phone while I’m sitting right beside her. No kidding.
Back to the point, FTCT and I headed downtown for a night of debauchery.
We started out at Fast Eddie’s, which used to be an excellent pool hall. All of their waitresses were drop dead gorgeous, they had great food and good music. Things have changed in the two years since I’ve been there.
The waitresses were all disgustingly obese. One of them was even in the late stages of pregnancy. Our waitress took forever to bring us drinks, forcing us to nurse every beer. We ordered boneless chicken wings, which used to be amazing. Now they are tiny, burned chicken flakes. To top it all off, the worst nigger noise I have ever heard was blaring over the sound system. The only saving grace was the pool tables are still excellent.
One of these horrible nigger songs was someone who sounded like they had a terribe head cold saying “Bitch, don’t kill my vibe” over and over. I kid you not.
The music was so terrible that I decided I would bribe an employee to turn off the jukebox, no matter how much it cost me. To my dismay, this music was coming from a “live DJ.”
Of course it was a nigger. And apparently, these days, a “DJ” constitutes a thug who has a laptop with some MP3s on it. No mixing, nothing but playing the worst music I’ve heard in my life.
We would have walked out then, but we were playing some of the best pool games we’ve ever had in our lives. We were on our game in an amazing way. But, finally, our heads were pounding from the terrible noise and my adrenaline was spiking from being pissed about everything. I told him “Either I’m about to start fighting or running Game. Pick someone you want to brawl with or find me a cute chick, somethings gotta give.”
He decided we needed to get out of there. While we were at the bar settling the tab, I asked the ugly black girl behind the register if they had a new owner. Apparently not. New management, I asked? Yes, the old manager (a male) left and now there’s a female manager. Ah, it all makes sense now.
As I mentioned, we were both pretty irate because of the ugly bitches and bad music. When we hit the next bar, I went straight in running Game on every female in the place. I needed to knock the dust off my game and make sure I still had it after all this time. This is where things got fun. While I was being a charismatic, cocky guy…..FTCT decided to go total asshole. Hilarity ensued.
Every time I retrieved a random girl and brought her over, if she tried to talk to him he would start calling her a stupid whore and other choice insults. The funny thing is, this caused them to wonder why he was like this and to continue trying to engage him. The more he insulted them, the more they wanted to understand the reason for his attitude. It was a rather interesting study in female psychology. I’m not saying they were turned on, but instead of running away they came back for more.
At one point, I engaged two young attractive girls in conversation and they asked us to play beer pong with them. They have beer pong tables at this bar, which I consider sad but oh well.
I’m not much for drinking games because I drink more just waiting for my turn than the game would ever force me to drink, but I was still dusting off my game and having fun. After 5 minutes or so, FTCT accused them of making up rules. He called them dumb cunts, grabbed all the cups of beer and chugged them, then walked off. The girls asked me why he was such an asshole. I apologized for his behaviour, then they kept asking questions about him.
Moving on from my dear friend’s crazy antics…..
I remember picking up women to be a slight challenge when I was younger. I recall being slightly nervous and striking out from time to time. I’m not sure if I’ve gotten better with age or if women have gotten even easier than I remember, but I could have taken at least a dozen women home Saturday night. One chick asked me to marry her. A cute “shot girl” asked me to wait for her to get off and take her home. Mistress discovered a text in my phone the next morning that just said “This is Kymmie. You’re fucking sexy.”
If picking up women were any easier, it wouldn’t even be fun anymore.
We left the last bar at 6 AM as the last chick I was gaming apparently found out from some other chick that I had a girlfriend and went storming off into the night. We were too fucked up to attempt the hour drive back out to my little village so we decided to find a hotel. The hotel we went to was also a casino. So we decided to take our drunk asses to a blackjack table. We won a hundred bucks and grabbed a nice suite. I called Mistress to let her know where we were, ordered room service and passed out. I woke up to find Mistress in the room with us and cold steak and eggs that I didn’t remember ordering. I got home at noon today.
My conclusions, and the point of this post: Judging from the women’s reactions to FTCT’s horrible attitude, they have become even bigger gluttons for punishment than they used to be. Although I admit, he is a good looking guy.
All it takes to take a chick home is having the confidence to talk to her. I walked up to one really pretty blonde just to randomly ask her if some other chick looked like a prostitute to her. She responded that if she wasn’t one, she missed her calling. Then she asked if I would have a drink with her. Seriously, that easy.
Women should not be allowed to manage a sport’s bar/pool hall. That is a masculine place, and the whole appeal (aside from the awesome tables) was pretty young girls serving you cold beer and good food. It’s ruined.
Final conclusion: I’m too old for this shit.
Just a note: I was not out looking to cheat on Mistress. I’ve told her before that I wanted to go out at some point and see how easily I can pick up chicks so I could report back to my readers. I did this for you guys…and because I really did need to dust off the social skills. I don’t get out of the house much.