So, I'm sitting in the bar last night, talking to my friend whos playing a MegaTouch machine, and throwing vodka in my face. This chick walks up and says "want some candy?" I'm like "Sure." (I don't really like candy, so I just let it sit there) She says "Wanna read my shirt?" I say "sure" (I already read it, it says Social Hazard and has a biohazard symbol on it, very ominous).
I make a show of reading the shirt and nod meaningfully. Shes all tits and slobbery drunk, pushing 'em up against my arm. Talking to this chick is like watching two monkeys fuck a football. She says "How old you think I am?" I say "Thirty-one."
"No fair, I already told you."
"No you didn't"
"Want me to prove it?"
"No."
This is becoming very twisted logic, and she hands me her credit card. I tell her "This says you're two." because she's a cardholder since 2005. She hands me her drivers license, it verifys her age is 31, but doesn't prove she'd told me that information previously to any of this conversation.
"Wanna buy me a drink?"
"Yup. Nikki! Get her a drink, please?" Nikki points down to the end of the bar where a big fresh vodka and cranberry is sitting next to a cell phone and a pile of money. I point to it and the social hazard, and Nikki brings the drink down.
"Thanks. Yer cute."
"No problem."
My friend playing the MegaTouch is saying "Fuck" bip bink bloop "Her" blip zonk without taking his eyes off the machine.
Finally after a little more disturbing small talk, she says "Come down there and sit next to me if you wanna fuck." Its rarely heard, but I'm not shocked. In fact, the world would be a better place if more women were willing to speak their mind. However, this one is a fucking nitwit, and I'm not interested. She goes away swishing her ass and I'm supposed to be eagerly dancing along behind her like Fred Astaire clicking my heels and singing Zippity Doo Daa.
I remain seated. She gets down to her pile of belongings and sits. When her vision stabilizes, she notices I'm still where I was and not about to come running down the bar like two lovers running in slow motion on a beach into each others embrace.
"What the fucks your problem, you some kinda queer?"
"No."
This is going long distance now, over the blare of a juke box and twenty people in drunken conversation. The guy two spots down (not the one playing the Touch) says "YER A FUCKIN PIG!"
She snaps. She starts ranting and raving at me about a pussy who doesn't want pussy, thinking I'm the one who called her a pig. She knocks her drink over and it splashes everywhere. On the TV is a show called "Scarred" showing people doing all these amazing wipe-outs on skateboards and rollerblades.
The guy who called her a pig is stomping his foot and singing Kid Rock's "Hillbilly Stomp" at the top of his lungs. Pretty soon she turns her attention on some other guy and they leave about half an hour later, and she hangs me the finger on her way out the door.