you can stand at the end of the night, you lose. Bartender- I will take a slow comfortable screw.”
Oh God. This was not going to end well for me. Shaking my head, and knowing I had no way to turn back now (no one says ‘no’ to Meghan’s drinking rules, they only get worse), I laughed and picked up my drink, eyeballing the orangey colored gin and vodka drink. Gross. I picked it up and looked at Meghan, “On three. One...two…three!” I tossed the drink back, eyes watering and throat burning. I hated gin. It smells and tastes like a Christmas tree. Why Meghan thought this was an easy first drink was beyond me. Slamming the glass down, I coughed and tried to put out the fire in my throat. “So gross Meghan! I get the next pick. Something yummy…. I know!” I waved down the bartender again. “We will have two Bend Over Shirley’s”
The bartender had to guess how the night was going to go from here, he laughed and went to mix the sweet cherry vodka drink. Yum. This one I could do. Meghan was standing in her place moving along absentmindedly with the music.
“How is Justin doing? You still seeing him?” I asked, seriously wondering since this was the longest time Meghan had stayed with one guy.
She shrugged, “Justin and I are taking a break.”
Like I was just going to let her leave it at that, I picked up my new drink and took a long pull, thinking over my next statement, “A break… explain.”
“It’s just, he wanted more. I don’t do more. You know I don’t do more. So, we are taking a break. It’s not a big deal. Finish your drink. I want to dance.” She grabbed her Shirley and chugged it. Something was bothering her. Following her, I quickly finished my drink and allowed her to drag me onto the dance floor.
It was hot and sweaty on the floor. Bodies were packed in and people were writhing against each other. Meghan and I threw ourselves into the mess with a passion. I seriously loved dancing. I closed my eyes and raised my hands moving slowly to the beat. After a couple of songs, I was hot and thirsty. I stopped and grabbed Meghan and motioned to the bar. She nodded and followed me off the floor.
The bartender smirked as we approached the bar, “What’ll it be this time ladies?”
Having the first two drinks already flowing, and the high of dancing running through me, I looked at Meghan and giggled, “We will take two Cock Sucking Cowboys and two Blue Balls.”
The bartender laughed with us this time, I think our drink theme was the highlight of his night. I mean, I would like it if I was working. In no time, the four shots were lined up in front of us and Meghan and I each went for one.
“Cheers bitch,” a toast only Meghan could make sound loving.
I grinned, “Right back at you whore!”
We slammed the Cowboy back and followed quickly with the Blue Balls. Meghan was beginning to sway on her feet so I knew if I stood up, I would be feeling these four drinks soon. Still, I was young and feeling pretty tonight and I want to let loose. I wanted to dance; I stood a little too quickly and wobbled for a moment in my heels before feeling centered enough to walk. Shaking off the effects of the drinks, I grabbed Meghan’s hand and pulled her unsteadily onto the floor for a couple more songs. The alcohol was making me feel free and I wanted that feeling so badly.
Dancing with Meghan was always entertaining. Most of the time, in order to keep overly touchy men off of us, we danced together. Closely. Intimately. Hey, she was my best friend. So we danced. Eventually our feet felt like lead and we needed a break. Trudging through the crowd, we eventually made it back to the bar and miracle of miracles, found two seats. Sweet relief! My poor feet. I swear, high heels would make the perfect torture device at Gitmo. Emasculate and cause pain at the same time, all without leaving any evidence behind. Too bad they made my legs look amazing.
This time when the bartender came I ordered a glass of
Oh God. This was not going to end well for me. Shaking my head, and knowing I had no way to turn back now (no one says ‘no’ to Meghan’s drinking rules, they only get worse), I laughed and picked up my drink, eyeballing the orangey colored gin and vodka drink. Gross. I picked it up and looked at Meghan, “On three. One...two…three!” I tossed the drink back, eyes watering and throat burning. I hated gin. It smells and tastes like a Christmas tree. Why Meghan thought this was an easy first drink was beyond me. Slamming the glass down, I coughed and tried to put out the fire in my throat. “So gross Meghan! I get the next pick. Something yummy…. I know!” I waved down the bartender again. “We will have two Bend Over Shirley’s”
The bartender had to guess how the night was going to go from here, he laughed and went to mix the sweet cherry vodka drink. Yum. This one I could do. Meghan was standing in her place moving along absentmindedly with the music.
“How is Justin doing? You still seeing him?” I asked, seriously wondering since this was the longest time Meghan had stayed with one guy.
She shrugged, “Justin and I are taking a break.”
Like I was just going to let her leave it at that, I picked up my new drink and took a long pull, thinking over my next statement, “A break… explain.”
“It’s just, he wanted more. I don’t do more. You know I don’t do more. So, we are taking a break. It’s not a big deal. Finish your drink. I want to dance.” She grabbed her Shirley and chugged it. Something was bothering her. Following her, I quickly finished my drink and allowed her to drag me onto the dance floor.
It was hot and sweaty on the floor. Bodies were packed in and people were writhing against each other. Meghan and I threw ourselves into the mess with a passion. I seriously loved dancing. I closed my eyes and raised my hands moving slowly to the beat. After a couple of songs, I was hot and thirsty. I stopped and grabbed Meghan and motioned to the bar. She nodded and followed me off the floor.
The bartender smirked as we approached the bar, “What’ll it be this time ladies?”
Having the first two drinks already flowing, and the high of dancing running through me, I looked at Meghan and giggled, “We will take two Cock Sucking Cowboys and two Blue Balls.”
The bartender laughed with us this time, I think our drink theme was the highlight of his night. I mean, I would like it if I was working. In no time, the four shots were lined up in front of us and Meghan and I each went for one.
“Cheers bitch,” a toast only Meghan could make sound loving.
I grinned, “Right back at you whore!”
We slammed the Cowboy back and followed quickly with the Blue Balls. Meghan was beginning to sway on her feet so I knew if I stood up, I would be feeling these four drinks soon. Still, I was young and feeling pretty tonight and I want to let loose. I wanted to dance; I stood a little too quickly and wobbled for a moment in my heels before feeling centered enough to walk. Shaking off the effects of the drinks, I grabbed Meghan’s hand and pulled her unsteadily onto the floor for a couple more songs. The alcohol was making me feel free and I wanted that feeling so badly.
Dancing with Meghan was always entertaining. Most of the time, in order to keep overly touchy men off of us, we danced together. Closely. Intimately. Hey, she was my best friend. So we danced. Eventually our feet felt like lead and we needed a break. Trudging through the crowd, we eventually made it back to the bar and miracle of miracles, found two seats. Sweet relief! My poor feet. I swear, high heels would make the perfect torture device at Gitmo. Emasculate and cause pain at the same time, all without leaving any evidence behind. Too bad they made my legs look amazing.
This time when the bartender came I ordered a glass of
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