On Making New Friends...

Open Letter to that drunk girl at the bar last night:

Dear Janessa, or Janelle, or Janette,

Um, don't quite remember your name exactly, but that's ok, because I'm pretty sure you won't quite be remembering my name as well. You seemed pretty drunk by all standards and accounts. I mean, you did walk up and fondle my friend's breasts in front of me, exclaiming how wonderful they looked. But hey, I'm not judging, I had a few myself, though I managed to keep my mental facilities about me. Well, ok, seven beers to be exact, but whose keeping count? I was in a shitty mood all day and pretty much forced myself to go out last night, if only for the fact it was the debut of my friend's (same as the above fondle-ee) new burlesque troop.

Yes. Burlesque troop, which, truth be told from what I could see, seemed pretty cool. I mean, any chance to see, or nearly see, boobs in a bar, well, that's totally cool with me. It was done with class, and was scripted well, and for the first time, they did all right. Though I did have quite a problem with all of the tall people that seemed to gather in the front, thus blocking a clear view of said show. Instead, I relied on a mirror on the far wall of the bar to watch the show, which obscured things somewhat. Why is it tall people insist on standing in the front? Anyway.

I'd like to thank you for gracing my presence as I finished my last beer of the evening. Why you chose me of all people to sit next to, I will never know. But I would like to appreciate the fact you pointed out all of the men at the bar that would have liked to have intercourse with you. I was wondering that same thing. Because personally, I found myself in quite the opposite position. No, no, not because of your looks, or the way you slurred your words when you spoke, or the fact you were spilling beer on yourself. Some men see that as a very heightened and potentially great situation in which to engage in courtship. I merely tried to explain that I simply was not interested in intercourse at the moment, thanks to recent events in my life.

I'd also like to thank you for telling me that I am adorable. A few times. But that we would never be able to have intercourse. Like I said, I already could see this as a fact, at least from my point of view. Apparently, your point of view happened to be that I was obviously a homosexual. Upon asking you why you thought I happened to be a homosexual, you said it was because of the way I happened to be sitting, with one of my legs directly over the knee of my other leg. I had no idea "the gays" had cornered the market on this style of sitting. Kudos to them. I had heard rumors, but thought nothing of it. Its just something I've done my whole life, because its just comfortable to me. I happen to like sitting that way.

Well, unfortunately your male roommate sat down shortly thereafter to "protect" you from me, Because obviously this mad, crazy homosexual me was obviously hitting on you. I decided at that point to make my exit, simply because I had finished my beer, and was excited to see the fire show in the alley outside the bar (yes, fire show. People twirling and breathing fire). I'm glad we shook hands a few times, and again you told me how adorable I was, for a gay.

In all seriousness, thank you. I really, honestly, had a blast talking with you. Somehow, it made the whole entire night worthwhile, in some odd, twisted way. Really. I left the bar all smiles, thinking about how odd our conversation was. Hopefully the next time I see you you will not remember me at all so that we can repeat the entire conversation, considering how blindly drunk you will most likely be.

Anyway, Thanks to you. Besides the jiggling burlesque boobies, and the fire show, you made my night.

Sincerely,
Your new friend,

Gaius J.