well, it served her right...

The other night, saturday, we had company over....more like my girlfriend had friends over. Anyway, i soon grew bored, tired, restless, whatever, and i ended up falling asleep. I woke up at 230 am to an empty house. They had decided to go to a pub, and left me there. No big deal...i had known they were going there anyway, and didn't really feel like going...so, i got up, had some cereal, and decided to head to a discoteque myself. So, got dressed, got change for a bus, and headed out. On the way, I crossed paths with this thing that was neither man nor woman,
but more of a four foot version of something in between. Obviously drunk, and surprisingly (or not) ugly. This thing (and i call it that because i don't know what it was), was also a little retarded I think...is that politically correct? Mentally challenged is better. So, anyway, i negotiated myself around him or her, and eventually got onto the bus, only to be followed on by the it...the driver immediately waved it to the back, realizing that to ask for money was only going to be a headache. The person headed to the back, leaving a trail of people holding their noses and gasping in it's wake. As he tilts against a pole, it becomes obvious he or she has had trouble finding a bathroom on 2 separate occasions...so, i don't have to fill you in anymore. It was a ride from hell...a smelly hell. maybe all hells are smelly.

Eventually, i ended up at the disco, and it was sweet...80's up top, spinning down below...25 to get in, with a free drink....so, like a 10 dollar cover charge, with a free beer. Anyway, the night passed relatively normally, good music, and I met some good people. Towards the end, I was grooving upstairs to something synth from the 80's, and found myself surrounded by three girls. youngish, likely 19 or so. One starts talking to me, overly friendly. I'm not really looking for anything, given the whole girlfriend thing. Eventually, after broken conversation, she's feeling a little frustrated at my lack of understanding, and suggests we go aways from the dance floor so she can hear me better. I'm like...alright...meh. So we go sit at this couch, and talk generally about music, etc, all in spanish. Finally, she's like baludo, (swear, and term of endearment, depending on the situation) let's get a drink. I'm like...frick...obviously she just wanted a drink the whole time...lots of girls pull that crap here. I'm like...what do you want? she's like...red bull and vodka...i'm like..make that two...the total came to 30 pesos...not cheap. Actually very expensive. But I knew what I was doing. As the bar tender asked me for the money, I pretended to get a phone call, and ducked out of the 80's room, and spent the rest of the night dancing to the spinning downstairs. She deserved it. That's one for the guys...