so i'm just about to put on my jammies when...

Bree called.

Let me back up.

I was supposed to go to a movie with Bree and Fire Faerie last night, but I was too tired. Movies just mostly wear me out. That's why I don't think of going to a movie as the first thing on the agenda. Even at home (in our BROKEN theatre downstairs - aarrrgh!) movies are so much of an energy investment that I always consider long and carefully. Manchurian Candidate made me sleepy. Sixth Sense gave me nightmares. Braveheart gave me a hangover. Four Weddings and Funeral made me question the state of my marriage. The third Matrix just pissed me off for a day or two.

You get the idea.

So, I was too tired to see a film. I just don't have that kind of time in the next few days to fret over the plot and characters who keep popping up in my head like errant, rabid prairie dogs.

I did, however, have the gumption to go drink. I was to meet them for a drink after. I was still undecided (which was where I'd left it) (Christ, I'm taking my time getting to the point) but at a quarter to nine I'd just fired up my laptop to let the muse decide for me. If it flowed, I'd stay in. If not, I'd go out. No big plans for the outing, just a restaurant bar for a martini or two; or, in the case of Aidan and company: a fire-fight in which our hero finally realizes that, yeah, this chick that likes him might be worth a little effort.

Bree called.

Fire Faerie had gone home sick - hadn't even made it through the movie. It doesn't sound like what we all had; we'll find out today I suppose. But at any rate, she was too ill to even finish Hitch, a cute film, which (and I quote Bree here) "I suppose I'll never see the fucking end to now." I told her that he gets the girl. It's a safe bet.

"So I'm going to Target since I've got the sitter." Speed Racer is reliving his college days with some old buddies up in the mountains for something like a week. (Bree is the best wife ever!) "I don't want to go home yet."

Aidan looked at me with his giant grey-green eyes, breathing hard, gun in hand, and waited. I looked at him.

"Well?" he said.

"Fuck it," I said, snapping down the laptop lid. "Kill 'em tomorrow. I'm still dressed. Come get me."

We drove to Boulder because the mall bars after nine-thirty is booooring. First we got off on the wrong exit (I was right, she wouldn't listen - but hey, she was driving, so who am I to complain?) and then we drove through a neighborhood to find the correct street. It reminded us of our youth, driving around looking for a party with cute guys. We found three twelve year olds playing basketball, but that wasn't quite the action we were after.

The Dark Horse was dead. We didn't even go in.

So we headed downtown. "To the pub, then," I said, shrugging. When in doubt, the pub is a safe bet.

It only took us, say forty-five minutes to find a parking spot. I won't bore you with the painful details, but in the end we found a completely George-worthy spot a mere storefront away from the pub.

We couldn't get in.

In ten years I've never stood in line at the Pub. I mean, fuckin' a. I knew the bouncer, of course.

"You guys just have a run-in with the fire dept?"

He nodded. "Two weeks ago."

But he let us in after a bit, didn't even make us pay the dollar cover.

It was a weird crowd. Couples, mostly. Many, many couples. It was apparently date night in Boulder. Bree and I agreed, "Ok, so we're dates." Which works because though we're not perfectly the same size, we're close enough to share clothes. There's no point to being in a lesbian couple without doubling your wardrobe.

There was a group of about five guys; none of these things is much like the others? Ok, I take some literary liberty, but they just didn't fit. I figure they were geek contractors, each from a different city, stuck together out on a Saturday night in leiu of their hotel room $5.99 Spice Channel. One of them had a turban, for crissake.

There was the guy, obviously on a first or second date, who'd just bought his shirt and put it on out straight of the package. I cringed, sure that there were still pins in the collar. We made fun of him for awhile, but he never noticed. We tried to get the other to go up to him and go, "Hey! I like your shirt! Is it new?"

The band was relentless in their last set. They'd pretty much run out of music by then, I guess, and had settled into some long, whiny geetar solos. They were good when they played actual songs, but the jam session ran a little long.

I asked for Bass. The bartender told me they were out, but brought me a "really good red ale" instead. WTF? First of all, Boulder's a beer drinking town. Tell me the name of the beer, and ask me if I'd like to try a swallow before pulling a pint. Second of all, Bass is... Bass. There's no replacement, not since 1777. (Yuh huh, look it up.) Jerry never would have pulled that shit on me, but Jerry was off. I gave it back and asked for a Stella instead.

I did an embarrassing double-take last night. This wasn't a mere glance. This was a guy walking by me; kinda tall and kinda close, who looked down at me and smiled and my double-take was a head-turning, spine-bent-back second look. Nearly a stare. I was sure I knew this guy from somewhere. Had he worked for PHF before? But then I realized he was a dead-on double for that cute Lithuwanian (that's not right, but eastern European) guy on ER. I mean, dude, it was so him. Fuckin' A.

If I'd had more time I mighta scammed him some more. He was looking back at me, too. Tall, but cuuuuute.

An aside, I think the sex hair is kickin' in. Oh, and I can't remember who, but somebody asked me what sex hair is. I gave her a description, but I thought of a better one. Sex hair is the kind of hair that gets in the way of the porn-star's face when she's going at it. Sex hair is the kind of hair he grabs hold of to steady himself. Lunatic, am I right?


Well, once he comes out of his sexual stupor he'll respond.

Bree's babysitter turned into a pumpkin at 11:30, so by 11:45 I was in my jammies giggling over "Lord of the G-string" with PHF. Now that's a funny fucking movie.

And yes, I think this post accurately portrays the tenor of my evening, as if you guys care. Now go do something with yourself, for crissake! Don't just sit there on the computer like a loser!


J. said...

oh--but living vicariously through your evening is waaay more interesting than actually leaving the house.

Great post. Yet another visitor becomes a returning reader...

Greg said...

How funny is that, we were making fun of Lord of the G-string last night as well. But I must say, it has some excellent girl on girl action. And the thong that makes her invisible, brilliant.

Nice post

Anonymous said...

Sex Hair? Jesus F. Christ, when are you going to put up a dictionary for those of us less sexually supported than yourself? Good explanation, but none the less it wasn't what we were thinking of...

Sometimes those babysitters are the lifesavers of the universe. Glad to see you diligently enjoyed the evening.

T Kwong said...



That Girl said...

"Sex Hair? ...Good explanation, but none the less it wasn't what we were thinking of..."

Geez, I know it's been about 95 days, but I sure remember Sex Hair and your explanation was exactly what I was thinking of!

sex scenes at starbucks said...

j - if you need that evening to live vicariously through than you got bigger trouble than I can fix.

greg - hilarious movie, and you echo PHF's sentiments exactly. However, giggling does not get "business done" so we had to move on. Should have taped it.

KC - the technical term for sex hair is actually "fuck-me hair", but this is a family blog.

chocoTom - (Jack's got me on a chocolate rave today) were you about to say more?

TG - was it you who asked? I seriously can't recall. But jeez, it's pretty self-explainatory, ain't it?

The Neurotic Monkey said...

Oh. I didn't realize you were referring to F-Me Hair. I thought you meant Sex Hair as in After Sex Hair, that oddly coiffed look that girls get to their 'dos after a rumble in the hay. But Fuck Me Hair is hot.

After Sex Hair, not so hot to those of us that ain't enjoying some sex. It's almost as bad as the Post-Coital Smirk that people get; that smug and completely content look on their face that lets you know "everything is hunky dory" and kinda makes you want to punch them in the face.

And if you enjoyed Lord of the G-Strings, check out "Spiderbabe" it's on HBO and Skinimax sometimes and it's hilarious. Nothing better than a low budget, soft core porn ripoff of a legit movie that tries to be funny. Throw in some cockamamie (yes, I said cockamamie and I'm not a Baby Boomer) attempts at plot, and you've got pure gold. I think "Spiderbabe" is what the pioneers envisioned when they set forth to create this great land of ours.

Krypto said...

Listen to this... "95 days," like that's a big deal or something...

sex scenes at starbucks said...

Ok ok OK. I'll call it Fuck Me Hair. I guess I'd better get one of those NC-17 ratings or something.

Oh, and yeah, yeah, if I forgot to mention it before, we're meant to walk on eggshells around Krypto. It HAS been a long time for him. *He's a little tetchy about it.*

Ole Blue The Heretic said...

"Now go do something with yourself, for crissake! Don't just sit there on the computer like a loser!"

But I am at work and can't leave untill 5. Please let me stay.



T Kwong said...

No I'm just expressing my dissapointment and shame.


sex scenes at starbucks said...

Blue- stay as long as you like. I think I was talking more to myself anyway.

Tommytummy- yeah, that's why I didn't go.

Lunatic said...

Ahh sex hair, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee when I have to brush thee aside to see my manhood in her mouth.

I love thee cascading down an arched back.

I love thee wet in the hottub this weekend.

Do I love to pull thee? If thou should so desire, Sex Hair.

"I love thee with a passion put to use"

sex scenes at starbucks said...

Tread lightly. There are those among us who've not (at least recently) experienced the delights of sex hair.

Jeez, if that's the way you talk to 'em, then mystery solved. You can sweet-talk me anytime, Looney- tunes.

daniel said...

You know we all care.

and I am offended to be told to go outside. Seriously, what would happen to my vigorous love life then? :)

That Girl said...

Krypto, every 24 hours that goes by is torture. I'm counting (kind of - that's an estimate). Hey, you're within driving distance...instead of waiting around for that chick that has to relax before work...

Lunatic, I just love you.

sex scenes at starbucks said...

TG and Krypto - if you two hook up by way of my blog you are OBLIGATED to share. Details.

Cryptic! Long time no flirt!
Tit for tat on the link, eh?

You've got to get yourself a wireless network, babe. Then you can view porn on your back patio or in the front yard - where ever.

Inland, Dreaming said...

Sex hair is hot, except when beads are involved--as in Bo Derek in 10.

pete said...

god I love sex hair especially when it is wet from the hot tub! um how is our friend dumbgasm doing? I must know. you should post the address. or just post on it again. keep up the good sex hair Sex!

daniel said...

I know. I had issues remembering my blogger login.

But i managed.

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