Some Wednesdays Aren't That Bad

Last Wednesday my friend The Matador had plans to go out. I had worked the night before and slept at the hospital to avoid morning rush hour. The plan was to wake up at 11am and go home to clean my damn house before Matador came over. No such luck. I woke up around 2p when Matador called to see if I was still for going out. I was. I always am. I have determined that I have the world’s most twistable arm.

It all worked out for Matador because now he had a ride in from Joliet, IL. After a quick shower and shave at the hospital, and a beer at Mat’s house we were on our way. Matador insisted we stop at Dunkin Donuts for the required coffee and donuts. Our bill came to $6.66. Quite the omen for the evening.

We made it to my place uneventfully, which was good because later we found out that we had missed an accident on the Expressway by mere minutes. It was Pizza and Drinks at my place before heading out to Bella’s, where we were greeted by my friend, and sexy bartender who we will call Hottie.



Hottie, as always, was pouring wickedly strong drinks, and instructed the other bartender to do the same. Which he did in spades. Bella’s is usually teeming with scantily clad women, but apparently the fact that it was 2 degrees outside deterred them from enjoying our company, because it was an absolute sausage fest. Aside from the beautiful heather, there was only one other woman who was tucked off into the corner with her boyfriend. A little later two semi-attractive women came in for a drink. A drink. Literally. Only one, and then they left. How goes out for only A Drink? In the cold no less. Another mystery of the universe. Luckily for us another pair of women entered and sat down across from us. One of which bummed a cigarette from Matador. A few minutes later I think I was talking to Hottie and then looked back at Matador to discover that he was on the other side of the bar engaging in conversation with his new friends. I gave him the obligatory two minutes and then approached asking “Is this guy causing trouble?” They instantly jumped to his defense. Wow, that didn’t take long. He was over there 3 minutes and they already adopted him as one of there own. After a quick trip to the facilities (yes I washed my hands after) I returned and built up a rapport with one of the women. Who we will call work out chick because she refused to take her hair down because she had just come from the gym. We’ll call the blond girl Doppleganger because she looks like a girl Matador and I work with. A little taller and a little cuter but pretty close.




Needless to say we charmed them. Not out of their pants but that’s okay I like a little build up to the main event. We acquired their numbers, despite the fact that doppelganger has a boyfriend. Who Workout girl doesn’t seem to like much. And Doppelganger may not like too much either if she is handing out her number.

At about midnight I blinked and Doppleganger had her coat and gloves on saying let’s go. What are you going to turn into a pumpkin? But they left. Which didn’t stop Matador and I from continuing to drink. And engage other people in the bar. A couple from Iowa of all places had made the mistake of sitting down next to us . The girl was cute and I was drunk so I spent a good 30-60 minutes talking to them.


After they left, I somehow thought it was a good idea to go to another bar. I was apparently not convinced I was drunk, but after just one drink at bar #2 I was convinced. So we left, but not before Matt went up to one the girls in the bar and said “Yours vewy bootisfuss” Or some other very slurred version of you’re very beautiful. Score one for the Matador

Then we got pizza. Because what drunken adventure is complete without going out for food with a fat and grease content that is not truly measurable during daylight hours.