Sleeping with you would be like fucking a dollar bill.

Shoulders just posted about last night while we are draped over couches and watching the ABC Family Harry Potter weekend in the living room. So I have decided to fill in the details about my night.

At the bar with amazingly strong drinks we score a table. It seemed like a good idea at the time. But I have issues with being served by a waitress....I don't get to scam on men as I frolic back and forth from the bar. But whatever, I made due. Some man tries to scam on our table. I try to call his bluff by asking him to buy our table shots. He then does. Good for him.

We then make our way to the bar around the block. Most of the rest of this is pretty hazy, but basically I find a target. His really short friend informs me that it is his brithday. So I buy the target and I a round of shots and beers. But as I am typing this I am thinking it was not really his brithday because his friends leave him with me and tell me to take care of their "very nice, single, available " friend. But I took the birthday story hook, line and sinker. So I compete with him to see who can throw more drinks back, and he buys us another round of shots and beer.

We then get on to the typical bar questions. He's in commercial real estate. Really? Every Dallas douche is in commercial real estate. I proceed to tell him this and he laughs. He agrees with my statement, but informs me that he is not the typical Dallas man. We talk about what I do, and of course he is thouroughly impressed. Who wouldn't be?

I then find out the best news of the evening. He lives in our apartment complex and he drove to the bar. Scrabble! So at about 12:30, maybe 1 we sketch off back to his place. I have no idea what car he drives or what his name is. So we can all tell where my head is at. We get to his apartment and I change into some shack wear - a fruit of the loom wife beater and adidas shorts that I am still wearing as I type this. But thats neither here nor there.

I don't know what the straw was that broke this camel's back, but I did not want to be in this guys apartment anymore. For some reason there is a wide range of drunkeness where I am very much into hooking up with men. But at my most smashed point last night I did not want to hook up with this one. So I call Nouns and tell her I need to get out of there. My words were "He was cute at the bar?" I tell her to start walking toward me and I'll walk toward her. Problem is neither of us have our clickers, so we can't use the elevators to regular floors and I am in another building. We decide to meet in the parking garage because we don't need clickers for the elevators to take us there. So I get down to P2 and start yelling for Nouns and she just starts walking toward my voice. Remember I am in shack wear, and I am carrying my dress, jewelry and bra yelling for my roommate and walking through the parking garage at 2 am. Priceless.

So now I am debating taking his clothes back, because he was a nice guy and I feel bad for leaving him on his "birthday". I have no idea what his name is, but I do remember the apartment number. I am thinking of leaving a post it on his door telling him how he can get his stuff back. But the clothes are comfy, so probably not.