Waking up in handcuffs is a good thing to some people. Waking up in handcuffs and feeling a little discomfort is even better. Waking up handcuffed to a hospital bed in a hospital in excruciating pain is not a good thing.
Roger and I should not be left unattended when there is alcohol around.
The wifey was away on business and we figured we would do a typical Tuesday night with "Top Gear", "The Grand Tour", shots of Sweet Tea Vodka and Chicken Wings. The reason I call this "typical" is because she goes out of town almost every Tuesday. Everything was going well until Jazmine texted and asked what we were doing. We hadn't seen her in awhile and she wanted us to meet her at a bar for some drinks. Why the hell not?
So, we jump in the Jeep and head to the bar. I don't remember the name of the bar and it's not important.
What is important is that this was the left turn of the night.
While at the nameless bar, we are catching up and having a good time. Except that Roger kept cutting me off and interrupting me when I would be trying to tell Jazmine anything. This started to irritate me. He was sitting in his chair with one leg up against the bar and leaning back, so when I had finally had enough, I punched him in the balls. He falls backwards and makes a big scene. I’m laughing my ass off until he comes up from the floor in a lunge and knocks me backwards in my chair.
At this point the bartender had the bouncers throw us out, which hurt just a little bit. I get up and start walking away, Roger drives off and Jazmine is left standing in the parking lot looking rather confused.
This whole little circle jerk sobered me up a little and before I realized it I had walked into a strip club.
I've mentioned earlier about an encounter with a dancer at Crawpappy's that went wrong. Well, she has found a new job and she was working. She was also very happy to see me.
After a little catching up chit chat we moved to the VIP Room, which I could not afford in any way. She is hammering down Fishbowl drinks just as fast as I can hammer down glasses of Rhum. I have no idea how much those cost, but they aren't cheap. At some point I started doing Coke. The interesting thing about that is it was in her vagina.
Now that sounds odd, but there isn't a better place to hide it when you're wearing nothing more than a thong and boobie tassels. The logistics of this are inconceivable to most. How this was pulled off was because of her ability to do a handstand of sorts in my lap while gyrating to whatever song was playing.
Ladies, pay attention because this little trick could save whatever relationship you are in. You put your shoulders on his thighs just past his knees with your head between his calves and depending on which way you're facing, you're either giving him Pink Eye or his nose is in your vagina.
She was in the second choice position and that's why I was able to do Coke out of her vagina. You have to be impressed with her dexterity. Imagine being upside down and opening a Mini Zip bag in your vagina, which is upside down the majority of the time, and putting it in a position where someone could put a tooter in that little bag and snort Coke out of it while you're moving around to some song by Chris Brown. She has skills.
Closing time finally arrives and I have written a check that my ass can't cash in 12 lifetimes. The dancer offers to give me a ride home with a stop at the ATM. This does not go well.
Apparently after several attempts to withdrawal monies owed, she called for backup and I did not go quietly into the good night. I put up a drunken, Coked out fight to the death at a North Side QT and cops were called. The cops arrived and I was still in Beast mode, probably because of the Coke.
That's how I woke up handcuffed to a hospital bed in excruciating pain. I hope your Tuesday night was better than mine, but I don't know how you can beat doing Coke out of a strippers vagina and waking up handcuffed to a hospital bed in hospital.
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