My muse has been caffienated
Jul. 17th, 2003 10:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brightrosefoxI went to the dentist yesterday for a routine cleaning/exam thingie. Clean bill of health, as always, except for a few minor concerns about possible formations of possible cavities. But he did recommend a Sonicare toothbrush. That thing is freaky! Makes your head vibrate. But my teeth have never felt so clean. I bought it at CVS for 75. Here's the stupid part: Another Sonicare was right next to it selling for 99. And yet another for 115. What the fuck? What's the difference? Oh. Look, they have different wattage numbers. Mine was a 4100. The $115 one had 5100. Oooooh. *forehead slap*
Finally returned to game last night. Spent most of the night gaming quietly with random people, and reading Poppy Z. Brite's "Lost Souls" (or trying to) while being calculatingly stared at by 40-something drunks. It was disturbing. One of them would NOT stop watching me. The entire night. I found out from another drunk that he was Irish and wanted to meet me. Oh, lord. I did say, many many times, that I had a boyfriend. I pointed him out. They continued to stare.
When I sat down at the bar to talk with Janet, some drunks bought me a drink, and Mr. Irish Brooding Guy came and sat next to me. He nodded at my pentacle and said, "I see you believe in the power of God." I said, "Nope. Not that one." He then said, watching me chew and suck on straw, "You're very self-contained, aren't you?" I replied shortly, "Sometimes." Then he continued: "You don't believe in the power of God?" *rolls eyes* "Not that one. My parents are atheists, I'm pagan, so no." He was quiet for a while as he lit a cigarette. Then he said, "Believe in the power." Ooookaaay! Good for you, Mr. Drunk Irish Catholic Guy!
But the kicker was when he paused briefly again, and said very quietly. "Don't touch yourself."
I wanted to spit my rum and pineapple right there and howl with laughter. I wanted to say, "Sorry, but I take showers and have premarital sex with my boyfriend. It's kinda hard not to." But I restrained myself. I now wish I hadn't. It would have been great.
More drunks hit on me. Two tried to strike up a conversation while I drank my coffee through a straw. Gods, were they wasted. I could barely understand a word they were saying. Something about being DJ's and wanting to set up music for us so we could game by it. They wanted me to help them pick songs. And the Irish Catholic guy was STILL staring at me. All night!
It was so cute though. Alternately, Carl and Keith would drop by and sit with me. Keith gave me a backrub. And still the drunks stared. In fact I think they stared more when people were with me. At the bar where the drunk Catholic tried to enlighten me about God, Adam came by and gave me a long kiss. And still the drunks stared.
It got funnier when Adam breezed by to pay his bar tab. I actually reached out with my hand to him and whimpered. He just smiled and the sparkle in his eyes said, "You're a big girl; you can handle them. If you need me to beat the crap out of them I'll be around." It made me smile. He walked away, toward the door, then caught my eye and inclined his head toward the door. I bid the drunks farewell and practically ran outside, where Adam burst out laughing. He pointed to Kat, who was sitting on a car hood reading Harry Potter. "See? You could have gone outside and read. Look at Kat. She's outside, reading. AWAY from the drunks."
What is it about me that makes every plastered guy in Brinkley's bar hit on me? One time, this guy even got down on his knees and proposed marriage! What, am I so tiny and sweet-looking compared to all the other women? Am I just so quiet and mysterious? Am I really that pretty, or are they just desperate? Why must they breathe at ME? Oh, look, see that girl with black hair in tank-top! That's right, go stare at her for a while. Good drunks. Oh, wait back to me. Shit. Oh, well. This is why I always carry a book around.
My fucking gods, it's bizarre.
Finally returned to game last night. Spent most of the night gaming quietly with random people, and reading Poppy Z. Brite's "Lost Souls" (or trying to) while being calculatingly stared at by 40-something drunks. It was disturbing. One of them would NOT stop watching me. The entire night. I found out from another drunk that he was Irish and wanted to meet me. Oh, lord. I did say, many many times, that I had a boyfriend. I pointed him out. They continued to stare.
When I sat down at the bar to talk with Janet, some drunks bought me a drink, and Mr. Irish Brooding Guy came and sat next to me. He nodded at my pentacle and said, "I see you believe in the power of God." I said, "Nope. Not that one." He then said, watching me chew and suck on straw, "You're very self-contained, aren't you?" I replied shortly, "Sometimes." Then he continued: "You don't believe in the power of God?" *rolls eyes* "Not that one. My parents are atheists, I'm pagan, so no." He was quiet for a while as he lit a cigarette. Then he said, "Believe in the power." Ooookaaay! Good for you, Mr. Drunk Irish Catholic Guy!
But the kicker was when he paused briefly again, and said very quietly. "Don't touch yourself."
I wanted to spit my rum and pineapple right there and howl with laughter. I wanted to say, "Sorry, but I take showers and have premarital sex with my boyfriend. It's kinda hard not to." But I restrained myself. I now wish I hadn't. It would have been great.
More drunks hit on me. Two tried to strike up a conversation while I drank my coffee through a straw. Gods, were they wasted. I could barely understand a word they were saying. Something about being DJ's and wanting to set up music for us so we could game by it. They wanted me to help them pick songs. And the Irish Catholic guy was STILL staring at me. All night!
It was so cute though. Alternately, Carl and Keith would drop by and sit with me. Keith gave me a backrub. And still the drunks stared. In fact I think they stared more when people were with me. At the bar where the drunk Catholic tried to enlighten me about God, Adam came by and gave me a long kiss. And still the drunks stared.
It got funnier when Adam breezed by to pay his bar tab. I actually reached out with my hand to him and whimpered. He just smiled and the sparkle in his eyes said, "You're a big girl; you can handle them. If you need me to beat the crap out of them I'll be around." It made me smile. He walked away, toward the door, then caught my eye and inclined his head toward the door. I bid the drunks farewell and practically ran outside, where Adam burst out laughing. He pointed to Kat, who was sitting on a car hood reading Harry Potter. "See? You could have gone outside and read. Look at Kat. She's outside, reading. AWAY from the drunks."
What is it about me that makes every plastered guy in Brinkley's bar hit on me? One time, this guy even got down on his knees and proposed marriage! What, am I so tiny and sweet-looking compared to all the other women? Am I just so quiet and mysterious? Am I really that pretty, or are they just desperate? Why must they breathe at ME? Oh, look, see that girl with black hair in tank-top! That's right, go stare at her for a while. Good drunks. Oh, wait back to me. Shit. Oh, well. This is why I always carry a book around.
My fucking gods, it's bizarre.