What comes around

So I went to check out the boy in his place of work. He's an ok bartender. I still love my regular bartender so much more. I dunno. There's something about a man with a shaved head, a soul patch, way cool tattoos, and knowing his way around cocktails that is completely hot.

So tonight was soul night at the bar. I felt like I was at a family reunion. So much Chicago step going on. (Yes, I do have relatives from Chi-town.)

The entertainment started with the chickenhead who kept on trying to talk to the guys next to me at the bar. She claimed that the bartender was her ex. Hmmmm. Maybe this is some of the issues he mentioned.

As I talked further with the guys next to me, I discovered that one of the guys used to date my cousin. Yes, the cousin of the previous post. He was definitely infatuated. I know this because he could not seem to keep his hands off of me. I finally told him that I had been invited out by a guy who was not looking kindly on his pawing of me. This is right before he was escorted away. When he returned, he thne told me he only had one thing to say -- "Black power!" Oh, and that he was a man and not a boy. If he had been reading my blog, he would know of my predilection for boys. (Only boys of legal drinking age though. I do not want to become one of those teachers you hear about in the news.)

So Mr. Black Power will be calling me tomorrow to see if I am feeling him the same way that he is feeling me. What I wonder is if the next part is a test or not. While he was off chatting with the bar employee who was telling who I am, one of his buddies said, "I have written my phone number on the napkin under my drink. Call me." Now this guy was sporting a gold band on his left hand. I told his buddy that his friend desperately wanted to get home to the wife and kids. The friend told me that the guy had been thrown out of his home. I wonder why. After they left, I picked up the napkin. There indeed was a name and a phone number. I am debating because he was much cuter than his friend.

Of course, I want to know if he wrote the phone number down before or after I did the obligatory spin. The first guy swore that he had told my friends that I was hiding up under my coat. When I finally took the coat off, he asked me to do a spin. I had to do it because, I am sorry, for a skinny chick I know that I do have some junk in the trunk. Thank you Old Navy ultra lowrise jeans for showing this off to its best advantage.

So I hung around until the bar closed and the boy had finished cleaning. He had to run home because he has a therapy session at 7:30 tomorrow morning. Fascinating...

If you've gotten to know me by now, you've gotta know that I just can't stay away from the bad boys...