Escape from snooty bar…
…and into the lion’s den. Well actually whore house aka Beach Club.
I dun know what theyve done to the flooring… maybe they even bought extra powerful speakers cos the already hollow wooden flooring near the front is vibrating nowadays…. I dun know what it is, but mesa is liking it.
Bad news for folks who’ve had a little too many and/ or have to totter on high heels, though.
Zeta Bar was a disappointing, closing at 2am and as we were still hyper decided to release some tension at Hoe House. The black dude who was eyeing friend last Wednesday, mustave told all his hommies about the smiling blonde (but “married”.. he didnt believe it preferring to think that she and i were lesbians) minx cos every single one passed her and lOOked.
I did my snooty routine. If i aint in the mood, i become to blind to everything. Especially for things and people I have no regard/respect for (esp, when they so deservedly lost it. One dude put hands around me and turned me to face him. Sometimes its a nice surprise when someone i know. But if not… sorrylar if i terkicked your balls…instant reflex to strangers marrrrrr.) I do what I gotta do with the minimum of consciousness that someone is around. Practise makes perfect!!!
“I dont care who you are, where your from, what you did… cos Im not seeeeeeingggg you”… *snicker*
On the other hand, I know its a bad habit (smack! smack hand!) and friend always prods me to behave better… you wont believe the amount of times she’s had to stop me from arguing with taxi drivers (the ones whom i think rigged meters, or took an exceptionally long route etc).
Beers downed: Two at Zeta Bar, two at Hoe House (silently thanking that the last round friend ordered didnt show up)
Chivas: Tiny sip from glass (after which I blabbed that being one of the more expensive whiskys, why dooos it tazte like pUuUuUkkkEEE?)
