🦐 For a story from the mun (kalle-and-lita) ((and cause you're amazing Mun, much love!))
A STORY FROM THE MUSE, A STORY FROM THE MUN
(You give me too much credit, :-P Thank you!)
A silly story this time...
When mun was younger and much dumber, she and her gay roommate Steve attended her office Christmas party and got slightly plastered. When the party was over, good ol’ Steve wanted to go to a bar for a hookup (He just broke it off with his man and he wants some, I think...), so off we went to a quaint little gay bar in So Cal for that very purpose.
A fetching young man named M----- caught his fancy and they started playing pool. Me, being a straight woman, would get zero attention in this kind of joint so I just kept...drinking.
Steve comes up to me later, confessing that he wanted to ask for Mr. M’s number to which I said. “Go for it dude. Woohoo. You can do this.”Turns out Steve is a quiet drunk and rather shy. (we’ve gotten plastered before, just not to THIS level).
Mun on the other hand, is a very, very, flirty, talkative, no filter drunk.
So I volunteered to get Mr. M’s number.
Mr. M was sitting at the corner reading a Luchador magazine.
At this point I have completely lost my sense of dignity. (I was introduced earlier to Mr. M by the way, so it’s not like I was a complete stranger, just a little bit).
I reached for the magazine he was reading, YANKED it out of his hand, blubbering. “Hey, why are you reading that boring magazine? Talk to me, I’m not boring.” I tossed the magazine to the side, sat in front of him and crossed my legs and smiled quite cheekily.
In his poor, not-so-drunk-mind, he was probably wondering, “Why is this intoxicated straight woman hitting on me?” But heck, he engaged in conversation for....I don’t remember...and at the end of it, he gave me his number.
To which I stupidly, drunkenly replied. “Err.....aren’t you uh...you know....I mean....I’m not...uhh...male.”
He leans forward and whispers. “For you darling, I’ll be anything you want.”
I think I was stumped into sobriety for a good fifteen seconds before grinning like an idiot, saying. “Thanks, M....”
I’m sure at this point my alcohol-baked brain was lost. But hey, I accomplished my goal! Somehow...
No I did not keep his number. I gave it to my roommate XD since he was the one who wanted it in the first place. I think they hung out once or twice. I don’t ask these things.
This is why I don’t drink anymore.... :-)
