If I can say anything for and against alcohol is that it 'ahem!' leads to sex with strangers....... I woke up this morning in a not so strange bed... seeing how I started my evening(last) on that bed sampling some great 'tato salad and not so fresh biscuit and please do get your head out of that gutter... for now at least......
Anyway, after a night of drinking and dancing and moving from reggae concert that almost wasn't, to irish chug hole then to nerdy afterparty...... and more drinking, we ended up right where it had all begun and the only thing missing was my mental faculty and 'libido', Both of which, thankfully, were partially restored by the time I/we got up at 12.00p.m. the next day. My body finally getting a full 8hrs worth of sleep for the first time this year.
Anyway... what was really strange was not the sex - which we didn't have, but the conversation that could surely have led there but which instead went past and way ahead.... we spoke about the previous night and my dancing with one of her friends.... I claimed I loved to dance and she retaliated it wasn't that quite.... she compared it to a game - X marks the spot, I guess in reference to my midsection's (read groin area) refusal to part with aforementioned dance partner's posterior.....
She wondered how many phone calls I'd missed this morning and I explained that it was only the Red-Cross soliciting for my blood..... don't laugh.... she thought it was hilarious, but, said I ought to be more original..... how original can one be with the truth? She asked if I was a regular donor. I told her I would be if I didn't keep failing their damn tests.... 'What tests?' feigning unconcern in a most admirable way.... If I were more charitable I'd have nominated her for an Oscar or some such award for good acting......
I explained that they (Red Cross) had a habit of asking very pointed, very personal, questions in a manner to suggest that they don't really want your blood all that much. 'Oh.... you mean like have you been to Africa? Have you been in contact with anyone who has? Are you HIV +ive?.....'
Yes..... yes! She's a smart one this one.
'So which one did you fail? The HIV one?'
And a smart ass too.
'No...' I reply.... The one about whether I've ever been paid to have sex..... This time she can't hide the uncertainty in her eyes as see searches in mine for a sign that I am just kidding.... which I am. Not..... This is America for crying out loud.
I smile and explain that I've now failed their iron test two times already and that my self esteem has really taken a beating. She says that she doesn't see how since my.....ahem!... iron keeps poking at her stomach.
They have lousy testers I explain... She would like to test it herself..... she has a nursing degree she says.... 'I'm sure it will come in handy' I chide. She nods agreement but says the hands won't be necessary.
I'm having a little trouble breathing by now and my hands are having their own conversation at the moment(boob talk). She wonders at their sexploration tendencies and I explain I have some Chris Columbus blood in me. Oh really? Does that mean I'm really adventurous? She wonders.
'I think I am..... '
She wonders how far I am willing to explore and I explain that I am seeking to discover the source of the rivulet snaking down her thigh.
Awwww! I think she blushed.... but my thoughts get interrupted.... she just asked a heavy question.... Even my iron feels the weight of it....
Yes... I answer... but am not sure I can handle more than two....
'And why not? Your iron feels heavy enough..... I think, from my preliminary tests, your iron is more than capable.....'
'Are you going somewhere with this?' I want to know..... Not quite sure I'm hearing correct.
'Yes...' she says, 'and you can tag along too.'
'And where exactly is that..?' Now I know I won't care for her answer..
To cut an already long story short...... she asked if I'd be willing to go to a swing party next weekend (Vals)...... For u who has no clue what kind of party that is..... well, there are no swings involved.
Normally, being the rational fellow I usually am ..... there is no way I would accept such an invite. Thanks, though, to that half litre of Vodka that was still swishing around in my cranium, I now have a kinky date with a group of strangers. Oh! And she will be bringing her yardstick mid-week to get a full measure of my iron....... Strange bed fellows indeed.
Now playing: Bob Marley & the Wailers - Turn Your Lights Down Low