Just another night in the DTF

Jeremy and I had been hopping from bar to bar.  We started at the Slide Bar, where a friend's band was playing.  We decided to leave early, not because the band sucked but because the sound guy didn't know what he was doing.  We were drinking heavily and it  took its  toll on my friend more than it did me; I was buzzing and he was spiraling into oblivion.

We had to get out and walk about. 

We stopped by a local smoke shop.  Jeremy bought some Djaram clove cigarettes and we both started smoking.  It wasn't long before a pair of lovely young lasses asked if they could bum a smoke from us.  The cute one had an accent.  "Where are you from?" we asked. 

"Russia." said her friend, as she tried to light her smoke in the wind. 

I offered to light the Russian beauty's cigarette with my own as it was the only way.   They thanked us and continued on their way.  I continued to watch, seeing our opportunity to become friends (or more) die with each step away. 

Jeremy sighed.  I did, too, but on the inside.  Needless to say, they were both attractive but the Russian was stunning.

We walked, passing mobs of young people crowding the sidewalks.  Some were smoking while others just wanted to chat.  Some were waiting to get into a bar; some were in an alcoholic daze.  Many were just standing about wondering which club they were going to hit next.

I decided to hit a place I few frequent quite a bit: Brannigan's Irish pub.  My friend and I sat down and ordered some drinks.  A Cosmo for him (no, he isn't gay) and a gin and tonic for me.I had been drinking the entire night so the alcohol didn't phase me; if anything, I was more alert, with a bit of the hiccups to accompany me.  Jeremy, however, was beginning to fade out. 

We started talking about girls, the bar and the fine scenery of both when two girls sat down at the table next to us.  Oh a great, a drunk "seven" (stating the level of attractiveness from a scale of one to ten) and her grenade friend.  They introduce themselves but I quickly forget their names.  It became a situation in which I need to extricate myself from the scene.  Jeremy had thought the same thing and disappeared, discretely, without me knowing.  The pretty one came on strong.  Asked if I would by them a drink.  Being polite, I did, but not before I was asked for a kiss or two.  I obliged, not thinking twice about the situation.  Of course, every sultry scenario crossed my mind during the brief moment.  However, the need to find a way out surfaced fast and furiously. 

"Waitress!  Bring us whatever these two girls want."  With that, the barmade was gone, my credit card in hand. 

I excused myself from the table to find out where Jeremy had left to.  I found it quite rude that he would leave me wingmanless.  I said I'd be back in a moment.  Frankly, I didn't know what my plan was. 

I checked the bathrooms: he wasn't there.  I checked the patio and, to my dismay, he was not there, either.  I texted him and then dialed his cell.  I wanted to know where he was so that I could figure out how to find my way out as well.  Just as I called, the server approached me bill in hand.  It was a relief beyond measure.  I told her to serve the two girls without me.  I tipped her generously and made my exit.  I was free.  Sometimes, Coyote Ugly means to pay a bar tab just to get away, even without the goods.