things to do with your sex hair

Editor's note: this will be written while extremely intoxicated and edited while sober. The author will do her damndest to maintain the spirit of the drunken post while fixing numorous gramatical and spelling errors.

Act I

Virtigo and her better half bailed.

Yeah, I know. It sucks. We were headed for this goth club that plays awesome music. But after X many of days in Vegas (yeah, all together now: "POOR BB."), BB was feeling not quite so BB-ish. We're not spring chickens you know. We're getting up there.

I was so in the mood to part-ay. So a tame dinner out and perhaps a movie (which I didn't want to see anyway) was not going to fix this. I needed a night OUT goddammit. And to top it off, PHF was in a tetchy mood, due to much time with the children. Sweet as they are an afternoon will tax the most forgiving of psyches.

Hence a, er, discussion. It took the ride into Boulder to resolve our differences, and our pre-dinner apertif at the pub was stilted, to say the least. Dinner helped though. We both got food in our bellies and our moods lightened considerably.

But something weird happened at the restaurant. I fell.

On my ass.

Well, one cheek anyway. Actually it was quite graceful, considering. I ended up in side-thigh-knees-tucked-up-attractively, leaning-on-one-hand position. You know, like that chic in that painting who's sitting on the ground staring at her house in the distance and everyone wonders what the fuck she's doing way out there. Is she disabled? Is she lonely? Dreaming of a better life? Is that her ex-boyfriend's house?

Fortunately, I work out enough that a sudden fall is practically nothing. So no damage was taken, except to my ego. And that was mostly because some assholes at the bar laughed at me.

Laughed.

Assholes.

High heels? Check. New. 4 inches. Yeah, fuck-me shoes carry a risk.

Drunk? Two beers. Hardly.

The fucking floor was wet, and that, combined with new high heels, made for disaster.

You're wondering, of course, Who rushed to your rescue, Sex?

Nobody. Two fucking waiters were right there and neither one even asked me if I was ok. I sat there for a second before I sprang back up (I work out, you know). PHF definitely didn't see me or he would have been there. Any of my friends, guy or girl, would have rushed to my rescue. Ok, they would have laughed, but they would have stepped up. Greg would have rushed over and fussed for a good quarter hour over me. (Maybe I could have sat on your lap until I felt better?) Jack, even in a pissy mood, would have been right there with a hand and a wrinkle of concern in that pretty little forehead of his. Krypto, definitely. Cryptic and Stray, of course. Lunatic, Blue, Joe, Pete, Luke, Jake... any of you guys would not have sat there and laughed over the chic falling.

Ok, so maybe you would have. But if you've ever done such a thing, shame on you and don't tell me about it. Let me have my fantasy here. And let me give you boy-types some advice: if you ever see a chic fall, drunk or not, hot or not, (and I was damn hot last night, as Act II will prove) you had better be up off your ass double-time, kind hand outstretched, narry a smile on your lips. Bad things happen to assholes.

Seriously, people go to hell for less.

But, heh heh, I got mine after the intermission. There was one lame pool hall in between but then we went to a piano bar.

Act II

You know, dueling pianos? When it's good, it's great. When it's bad... it's awful. It's horribly embarrassing. Actually it's embarrassing anyway, because it's such a chic thing. To be clear, it was not my idea to go in there. PHF was trying to please me, and as there was nothing else to do (I suggested the pool to be nice to him, but he wasn't biting.) And it was only nine-thirty. We sure as hell weren't going home.

We watch for awhile and they're pretty good. Four guys with differing ability: a clear one, two, three, four. It's obvious who is number one and he is brilliant. But this mostly involves numbers two and three. (Let me take a break here for the odd, contemplative, drunken observation: Isn't it funny how someone can be not very cute, but put a piano in front of him and his personality comes through and lo and behold, he's damn cute. Then you see him later up at the bar on break and he's not cute again. Weird.)

Anyway, they're singing, of course. And playing piano.

Sex is on her way (finally!) to getting drunk. PHF is driving and is being fairly responsible, but enjoying the piano bar despite himself. He actually was starting to nod a little to the music at that point (later he would be singing along, but that's not what this is about).

Sex comes up with a request. "Werewolves in London." I've got a thing for that song for a lot of reasons, but it's a ringer for piano bars, of course.

"Waaaaaooooooo Werewolves in London. Waaoooooooooooooooooo."

It's a gimme.

PHF says two bucks, since it's a gimme, but I don't want to be cheap-ass about it. I put three bucks on it - probably the minimum bid - and walk my request up to the piano. I put the money down on the piano and turn to leave.

Number three QUITS playing and comes after me, actually makes it off the stage.

Number two yells at him to come back and save his scamming for his break. The crowd goes crazy. Fortunately I was just drunk enough to not go all red. AND they played my song immediately, ahead of about ten other requests. And a guy in a wheelchair danced to my song. If you read me much you'll know why that's pretty cool. Yeah, you can dance in a chair. He was good too, incredible balance and upper body of course, and way cute. Some chics picked up on him after that.

So, yeah, Amber, I'd say the the sex hair is working out nicely. Of course the fuck-me heels and skimpy halter top didn't hurt either. But the sex hair was done all super straight. It did look pretty good, even if I say so myself.

But I think PHF was right. I think I could have gotten my song played for two bucks.

26 comments:

T Kwong said...

I think sober editting destroys too much in general. My view is that if you're going to write while trashed, then you should stand by it, errors and all.

Do people not go to hell for being jerk-offs?

-Thomas

thtgrl said...

Falling and not getting "tended to" DOES SUCK. I've fallen and looked up to see all eyes on me. HATE that. I'm super careful in the fuck me boots now.

On the piano bar, it may be cheesy, but I LOVE to sing when I'm drunk!

On the wheelchair dude, I only hope when my kid grows up he gets the straddling of the chair that he deserves. :)

ssas said...

Stick-it-to-her-Tom -
since my tenses are completely fucked up throughout the entire post I'd say my editing didn't remove the flavor of the drunkeness. The only thing I really did was combine paragraphs and fix some typos. I was feeling "dramatic" apparently, when I was drunk; each sentence had its own paragraph. Exceedingly annoying to read.

Virtigo- yeah, it turned out fun. Hopefully BB is feeling ok. There's always next weekend.

TG- assholes who don't help out are going to hell. end of story. and they don't get laid (or shouldn't)

odd that I had all eyes on me twice last night and once was so mortifying and once was so exhilerating...

Linds said...

I've been in the "falling down and not being tended to" situation.

However on my part I blacked out while walking down the steps at the theatre, fell on my knees, (and then my face,) and slid down half of the stairwell. I had bruises for months on my knees and shins.

I look up after this tumultuous tumble, and my bf of four and half years at the time looks at me, and then looks BACK UP at the credits.

The heartless bastard.

Needless to say, I dumped his sorry ass.

Great post, Sex.

ssas said...

Todd - yup, the reef. I actually thought of you guys last night. We should gather a group and go. It was accidental fun.

Linds - Thanks for reading!
Good for you for dumping the H.B. We've got no use for those types around here.

Ole Blue The Heretic said...

Well of course I would not have laughed if you would have fallen, and I would have been right there to help you up. Now when I guy falls it is a law that you have to laugh.

You had fun in a piano bar? damn you must be good at parting!

JPM said...

I am so sorry I didn't help you up I would av if I knew. but as for piano bars I sure love them

Greg said...

Was everybody in that bar gay or something? Can't they see an attractive lady has fallen and is in desperate need of a strapping young-lad to lend his hand? Those damn think-for-themselvers

Damn right sex, I woulda been there. I would have WOOPAH, whipped out a massive bicep/cannon for you to grab onto and lift yourself from the floor. But only cuz I'd want to hit on you afterwards, well not ONLY... Mainly.

T Kwong said...

Nonsense, if you're dramatic while drunk, then write like it damn it. Somebody's OCD came out.

-Thomas

ssas said...
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The Neurotic Monkey said...

"Werewolves of London" is a great call. A great piano song is Ben Folds Five's "One angry dwarf and 200 solemn faces". Also, Bowie's "Life on Mars". And lastly, "Rocketman". It's funny, but if you get enough drunk people together and throw in a grenade of Elton John music, suddenly you have a terrific sing along.

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thtgrl said...

Jesus blogger sucks this morning! I don't even remember my comment now that he box came up. It must be busy duplicating monkey's comments...

JPM said...

once they see me they just start playing the doors, usually "riders on the storm," and assume that I will start singing. which is really no problem because I sound just like him too!

T Kwong said...

Whoa. Sorry, Sex, I was just teasing. I too obsessively edit my spelling and grammer. There's no reason to bring Tommy into this.

-Thomas

ssas said...

Manic - man, shhhhh! you are so going to pay for saying that.

TG - Yes it does. But shhhhh!

What are ya tryin' to do to me here, Peter?

OsamaTomLadin- I realized later how defensive I came out on that one. Sorry too. Kissykissy online makeup sex now?

thtgrl said...

Your nicknames for Thomas crack me up!

Amber Lynn said...

First of all, I am sorry about your fall. I cannot wear fuck me shoes for this exact reason. I just put a sign on my back. It works just as well. ;o) Halter tops kick ass. I had just posted about liking to wear those in the dressing room but because of my small town they aren't something I would wear around here. I think I am going to Vegas with sis soon, so I will wear one there.

Anyway- so glad to hear the sex hair is paying off. :D

ssas said...

I wanted to call him Tommy but he won't answer to it unless I'm pissed at him, so I've made a personal commitment to nicknaming him to death.

Lunatic - I hurt here. And here. And here. And here. And here. And here...

Amber - Us married chics should not wear fuck-me shoes. But I do anyway, because "fuck convention!"
Halters are puuuurrrrrfect for Vegas. I wear them all the time anyway. It's one of the (few) benefits of not being horribly huge-chested.

Amber Lynn said...

That's what I like about you- we shouldn't but you do. I don't trust myself enough. I do not have male friends (except in cyber world cuz they are no harm). I like attention too much when it comes down to it. I am a prude and modest not because I am worried about everyone else but myself. I call it guarding my heart.

ssas said...

After you've been married for fourteen years like us, you'll both be secure enough to flirt your little heart out.

Greg, Looney, Jack, the boys up in Washington, the Aussie contingent - all absolute darlings. And DAMN those twenty-some guys are too hot to resist. If you don't believe me I'll present exhibit A:
A good pic of Cryptic on his site: http://www.dontfeedthemonkeys.com/

HE'S way cute.

Amber Lynn said...

yeah- definitely not secure enough yet and I love my husband way too much to even toe the line on this one.

T Kwong said...

I'm impervious to death by nickname.

Kisses and make up sex to you to.

-Thomas