Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Awake or dreaming?

About a month ago, I attended a party thrown by a female co-worker. I was apprehensive about going, not knowing what to expect, but seeing as how this was one of the first times I have had to bond with the hella-cool people I work with, I jumped at the chance. Upon arrival I noticed that this was a really nice house and if this was the type of party it was supposed to be, then maybe I was in the wrong neighborhood. The whole upstairs was covered in food. The alcohol was kept in the basement, where oddly enough, all of the people were. I introduced myself to the daughter of the house owner's and made a bee-line for the bar. My co-workers were already there and hitting em' pretty hard. It was only 8:45 and already the Captain had claimed his first hostage of the night....Damn you Captain Morgan!!I cut to the quick and cracked a beer and tried to relax, however the 30 or so other people in the basement were really fucking with my vibe. What I was hoping for was a reasonably quiet night, getting effed up with those I work with. What I showed up to (unbeknownst to me) was a birthday party for a suburbanite-trust-fund chick.....yeah....anyway.

I managed to attach myself to the bar and by beer #2 things were getting better. The girl from Belgium showed up and that helped me to relax as well. We drank dark beer and spoke of world politics and the crazy influence religion plays in many of the world's on-going conflicts. My friend, the funky prophessor, asked if I wanted to go smoke some cheeba but I was kinda sketched out by the idea of partaking of herbals with people from work, even though I know some of them enjoy the tweeds as much as I do, I felt bad leaving Ms. Belgium alone. So, others took off to partake in herbal enchantments, as Ms. Belgium and I spoke more of international relations and I was testing the waters....seeing where lines of demarcation and boundaries were drawn. Either Ms. Belgium was having trouble translating the american bass, to Dutch or she was just not into it. I would be telling lies if I said I was not a bit put off by this but minutes later...she walked in and I could have cared less about foreign politics.

The new girl walked in with a dude from another unit at work. With clock-like precision they approached the bar. I was trying to figure out their relationship before I made an ass out of myself hitting on someone's girl. Funky Professor commented on how nice new girl's breasts were and dude from other unit asked Funky Prof not to comment on his cousin's breasts in front of him. his cousin's breast...his cousin's..."Shuttle this is Houston, all systems are go. Repeat, all systems are go". Brief intros and chit-chat. I wanted her to warm up to me before I brought the A-game. As much as I joke about the manliness of my Cosby-esque sweater, the chicks dig it....plain and simple. We spoke about work and music and oddly enough the hotness of other females in the room. "And for a moment my heart sank in defeat. I was chatting with a Venus, who I thought was not into penus. And then something magical happened, she asked me what it was gonna take for me to get drunk enough for her to take advantage of me". For a split second I thought I was imagining things. This was too good to be true. So I cracked a wry grin,"I don't know but give it your best shot". came out of my lips as my head whipped around to see the pimp that uttered that phrase. She smiled wide and winked and began to mix drinks.


1 comment:

Reggie said...

There better be some action in the next entry - breasticular action, that is.