It’s a curse I tell you. If you’re silly enough to have read many of my previous entries you’ll know that the Mexican and the Elderly have a strong gravitational pull towards me. Really. You’d think I had Geritol in my veins and a Sombrero up my ass – they just don’t leave me alone.
So anyway, it was Thursday night and I was at Lafitte’s. There was this cute guy, mid-forties or so, glasses, balding, kinda pudgy.
Perfection, I know?!
I’m watching him, trying not to be too obvious but trying to be obvious enough so he’ll notice. Suddenly, I realize that just to the left of his face in my line of sight is this older gentleman – not exactly ugly but not anywhere near my type. He was probably in his late 60’s with a plain red t-shirt on, white scruffy hair and an even scruffier beard. Bleh..
He’s staring at me.
I accidentally make eye contact with him and look away before he thinks I’m returning ‘the look.’ I turn and flirt with the cute guy again and like a humongous white elephant, I can’t help but look at old-man-river to see if he’s still looking.
He’s still looking.
“Shit” I think. I look away. “Stare at your drink” I tell myself. “He’ll stop looking at you once he realizes you’re not looking at him.”
Is he still looking? I glance toward my future husband and take a quick peek at Pappy.
He’s still looking.
I commit and successfully don’t look in that direction at all for a good 5 minutes. Eventually, my not-so-secret admirer walks to the opposite end of the bar and when I turn my head, the guy I was looking at is no longer there.
Curses, foiled again.
I chat it up with the bartender a bit and then go to the bathroom. While I’m standing at the urinal, doing my thing, who walks into the bathroom behind me and decides to have a conversation?
“I know you saw me looking at you the last half hour or so…”
I nod, frightened of what I know is coming next.
“…and I saw you looking back at me.”
“Now. Ya see what I got here?”
I can’t stop myself from looking. He is squeezing the base of his ginormous semi erect penis in his fist and waving it in my general direction. Easily 8 inches and growing.
“With this… I can take you where ever you want to go and back again.”
I throw up in my mouth a little.
“I’m staying with a friend for the next two days and I’d certainly love to see you.
I put the card in my pocket and he walks out the bathroom, still at half mast.
I wait about 30 seconds and leave the bathroom, still a bit weirded out.
I accidentally bump into Jesus; no, not Christ.
I don’t know what Jesus’ last name was because I couldn’t understand him. He either spoke very poor English , was very drunk, or a combination of the two.
“Hello, I am Hay-Soooose,” he slurs.
I walked away from Jesus like I was the rudest, most racist piece of shit in the city but I couldn’t handle it after what had just transpired in the bathroom.
Anyone want his business card?