We went to lakeview lounge, which was kinda scary, then down to southport, and we ended up in Messner's. It was at Messner's where Alana accidentally stepped backwards, and her heel crunched a bone in my foot. We went to the ladies room, where some random drunk girl suggested I put my foot in the sink and run cold water over it... (There's only one sink in the bathroom, so even if that would've fixed anything, which obviously it wouldn't, I wouldn't have put my foot all up in the only sink.) So yeah, I've got another drunken injury to my credit.
We came out of the bathroom, grabbed a seat, and proceeded to get hit on by... well... nobody. And just when I had resigned myself to another boy-less night out (with a broken foot), which has become all too typical for me lately, things got worse. A short little middle-aged mexican fellow, sits next to Ben and tries to strike up a conversation with us. (Side note: As if it isn't hard enough to hear someone in a crowded bar, add in a very thick accent which makes the person that much harder to understand, then combine that with the fact that the guy is old enough to be your dad, and in general, not what you're looking for, but he sat down anyway and stayed... pretty much killing even the slightest glimmer of hope to get hit on by any respectable boys... you getting the picture?) And so the whole night is becoming increasingly bleak.
Don't get me wrong, I know how to give the unwanted guys a blowoff, even in periods of severe drought and desperation, but old mexican guy was buying drinks... and not just for me, but for my friends as well. And so I basically took a hit for the team, sacrificing my high hopes for making out with a cute boy, so that my friends and I could keep drinking without incurring great expense, and those of you who have been out to the Chicago bars know that it can be quite an expense (especially for poor college kids!) And at the end of the night Mexi-man gave me his card, with his number scrawled on the back of it in kindergarten-style print, with words misspelled, and the number hardly readable. (I half expected one of the letters in his name to be printed backwards... it's that bad) If I suddenly obtain access to a scanner, I'm scanning in this card so that everyone else can see too! REALLY! And I definitely gave him the rejection hotline phone number. (Ben got kinda upset with me for that... but I'll be damned if I'm gonna have a dirty old guy like that calling my real number... we don't need a repeat of the Santana incident!)
So we got into a cab, and began our ride home, and our cabbie definitely got into a little fender bender out in front of Nick's (which we opted to skip in light of our cabbie's poor, yet supposedly sober, driving skills... and this is supposed to convince me that I'm better off with a DD? Well yeah, I am better off with a DD, but WOW! This is just nuts.)
And today I woke up with a limp, an old mexican's phone number, and another quality drunken adventure story for the masses... It's all for you kids!!
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QOTD
12.5.04 - "Oh, you know what you should do, put your foot in the sink, and run cold water over it... because you know it only takes 10 pounds of pressure to break a foot!" ~Drunk girl in the bathroom at the bar... I don't know how she thought cold water would fix my foot, but that was her advice!
QOTD for 12.6.04 is a conversation I had with Nate G. about his away message, as for quotes, take from it what you will:
Nate: "my roommates just found out I could fart on command... they were pleasantly surprised"
Liz: "how is that possible? you can just compel gasses to move through your system at will, so that it reaches your bottom at the commanded time? I mean it's different for burping on command... that's on the other end of the system! I'm impressed man, REALLY."
Nate: "i suck it in... from my butt"
Liz: "ummm, I don't know whether to be totally grossed out or really impressed"
Nate: "yeah, neither do most people"
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TOTD - Bob Dylan "Most of the Time"
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And since my stories of personal humiliation always find their way here, I'm adding a little something for you kiddies!
The Count-o-Drought: Presently standing at 139
Yes, that's right it's been 139 days since I've even made out with a boy.
And yes, I'm aware that's
ENTIRELY, PAINFULLY TOO LONG!!
The Count-o-Drought: Presently standing at 139
Yes, that's right it's been 139 days since I've even made out with a boy.
And yes, I'm aware that's
ENTIRELY, PAINFULLY TOO LONG!!
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