Three Times a Lady ... Four Times, a Masshole?

I'm back after a weekend hiatus (sun stroke), and so it's rather inexcusable that this post will be rushed ... but I've only got 15 minutes (before I get sauced with C.---a lovely 23 who just wants to have fun, for now), and typically, I like to take care when I write.

So, Smooth and I ventured out again on Saturday night. We started at Minibar (Minibar: I'll accept payment in nickles and kierkegaards ... yes, I am a gold bug with a fetish for Thomas Jefferson). The scene was swank-yuppie, and had there been more than one pair of single women there, we would have stuck around. As it was, there were lots of Euro-types (not quite trash, although it was early), and a gaggle of about 7 women seated at one table. We decided then and there that women in those numbers are out of the question. They'll play with you like a cat with a mouse for kicks, but that never ends well ... I'd go so far as to say the best the mouse can hope for is scurrying in circles while dragging his bruised and bloody body further than a sure escape: death. If you're going to go in for that kind of treatment, you should be prepared to go out like a rock star---fly open and all---and we had only had one drink a piece.

Anyway, cutting to the chase. We decided to saunter outside and take in the bar from a different angle (big open windows). To do so, we had to commit to eating, and this allowed us to flirt with the waitress mildly, and once seated, we realized that we didn't have to eat; however, we had bought ourselves some time to plot the next move.

I decided that the (other) waitress was well worthwhile, and the only quarry in sight, I'd try a line and hope for the best. Here's the conversation as best as I can recollect....

(Waitress arrives to take order) Her: "What can I get for you guys?" (good eye contact, nice smile)

Me: "Actually, we didn't really want anything to eat. I was just looking for an excuse to talk to you. I hope you don't mind."

Her (smiling): "Oh, no, but I live with my boyfriend."

Me: "Well, I hope he knows that he's a lucky guy. I had to give it a shot. You're really cute; that's a great dress."

Her: "Well, thank you. I guess, have a good night?"

Us: "Goodnight."

Smooth, feel free to correct me where I'm wrong. Still to come ... the bachelorette parties and the porn star.