Pit Stains McGee

scene: 3 girls sitting at a table at a place which shall remain nameless. Well, we'll call it smuffalo smild wings. karaoke is about to start. We know its going to be good because the guy that is going to sing first is singing a Metallica song and hes already started headbanging his long, disgusting hair. So, we're feelin' it. We're READY. We've got some making-fun of material, we are pumped.. Let's do this thing.

We are already about 5 pitchers in.
2 guys come over to our table. One kind of resembles Matt Dillon from Wild Things, my friend is into him. His friend was fun.. we are conversating.. I could see every muscle underneath his size schmedium shirt. It was not at all unpleasant. *side note: the third friend had at this point began talking to strangers at other tables.

I'm wearing a pink cardigan. Not thick like a sweater, thin, very thin. This doesn't sound relevant, but trust me.. It is. Said guy is making all kinds of intelligent conversation with me.

Him: I'm from Miami, but I live in Calera.
me: Why the hell did you leave there to come here.
Him: Why is the sky blue?
me: *confused, but goes for it anyway.* uhhh, Does a bear shit in the woods?

(I never found out why he moved because our conversation went in the aforementioned direction for a WHILE)*

anytime a really ugly guy walked by he would say, "hey you're boyfriend is here." which was funny.. What was even funnier is that he would point at them and he was talking VERY loudly. The person would hear him. Haha.

Him: (looks deep into my eyes) If you were a booger, i'd pick you first!
me: huge, shit eating grin. (Why, you ask? Because here is what I heard when he said that: "You are stunning, darling. You are intelligent, beautiful, witty and I we should date." *warning: alcohol makes you hallucinate)

At one point I tell him that I think his boobs are bigger than mine. I have a vague memory of some jaeger shots. I start squeezing publicly fondling his muscly man boobs. Haha. I tell him I think he should do a song, topless.

Him: Dare me.
me: Okay, I dare you.
him: I'm going to wear your cardigan, with nothing underneath.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is where I reach what I like to call a FUCKING DILEMMA. I've been sweating this guy. And when I say sweating, I mean literally, I have pit stains. They werent stinky, but wooo boy were they wet. He's trying to convince me out of my shirt. Not the way I wanted this to happen, but man, I want to see him with his shirt off. I was at the threshold! Fuck it, I think. (actually, I think the beer was pretty much doing my thinking at this point) I take off the cardigan.. he goes to the bathroom with it.

me: (to my friends) That guy is about to experience my pit stain wrath.
friends: maniacal laughter... Maybe... laughter.. maybe... maybe he won't... laughter... notice!me: It's not funny! I'm so embarrassed! Listen, the pit stains are.. pretty substantial guys. He's going to notice. Dear God, hes going to NOTICE.

Well, at this point we are all sitting back, waiting for the show. Said friends are laughing, still. I have my head in the pitcher at this point. He's been in there for a long time. One could only deduce it was because he was just, really, in awe of what my pits had produced. When they are they bad theres no way you cant just, respect them.

after an eternity, He comes out of the bathroom in my way-to-small-for him cardigan. Buttoned up. FLEXING HIS ARMS, SHOWING MY PIT STAINS TO THE WHOLE BAR, who, at this point, ARE ALL STANDING UP AND CLAPPING FOR HIM. I hear people asking whos cardigan it is. YEAH. People are noticing the wet spots. He gets up to sing. He's still flexing and doing schwartzneger (sp) poses.

Operation: Take shots and forget about this commences.

The pictures are for your enjoyment and to help illustrate my pain...I hope that my mild humiliation has bettered your day, in some shape, form or fashion. Until next time.