I’ve only been living back with my parents for a few weeks, but I’m already aching for some hometown shenanigans. Turns out I got started and didn’t even know it.
Last Tuesday I went out to what I suppose is becoming my regular bar in this town to celebrate the oft’ overlooked holiday of Twelfth Night. For those of you who aren’t aware, Christmas starts at sundown on Christmas day (despite the early morning rituals of shredding paper and being disappointed); the following twelve days are the twelve days of Christmas, the time between Jesus’ birth and the Epiphany, when the wise men came. (Somewhere in the middle the shepherds show up and someone cuts off a piece of Christ’s dick.)
So anyways, I was out celebrating Twelfth Night and I met a girl. She was cute, but in the “I wouldn’t want a long term relationship with you, but will totally fuck you silly until I figure a way out of this town” way. Long story short (and it has to be because I can’t remember much), I had a few too many to drink and woke up the next morning thinking it would have been smart to get her number. D’oh!
Fast forward to last night. I go out again to the same bar and whaddayaknow, she’s there. She comes over and says hi and is all friendly and such. After having he remind me of her name, I tell her I felt stupid for leaving last time without getting her number.
And she tells me that she gave me her number. I look in my phone and yeup, there it is. I try not to make a habit out of getting girl’s phone numbers and thinking I hadn’t, but who knows, it could be fun. Also, ladies, maybe this is why that guy never called you, he didn’t know he had your number. Sure beats thinking he didn’t call because you’re ugly.
Then, she tells me that at some point during our first encounter, she was talking to someone else, and I guess I was feeling neglected, so to get her attention I grabbed her hand and sucked two of her fingers.
Well, you learn something new everyday.