Confessions of A Naughty Girl

At Tilli's, shortly before seeing Mobster boyfriends for the first time.

All I have to say is "Yeow"!

It's just after 3 pm and I just got home. No, I didn't just come to from the roofies - I was out until 5 and had a big sleepover with some people at Sandy's.

Before I begin, can I emphasize how much fun it is to go out with San? I think that she wins my "most fun" award. We are different in a lot of ways, but we do enjoy a shared love of soup and messing with people's heads, and that is really the glue to the friendship. Some guy last night compared us to Starsky and Hutch, and when we heard it, we immediately got into an argument about who would be Starsky, because he was clearly the uglier and worst dressed of the two. San is such a good friend that she offered to be Starsky. Gotta love that. I'm pretty sure that most things that happen to us when we go out are not funny to other people, but if that's the case, then I have never been more amused by my antics with a friend as I am with ours. Because funny shit happens to us - all the time. Or do we make funny shit happen? I'm not sure.

Can I retract an earlier statement? When John Sam mentioned that meeting people at bars was a good idea, he was absolutely right. I was en fuego last night with the boys at the bar ("en fuego" = on fire, for those of you who took Latin as a foreign language, dorks). I scored two dates in the span of three hours. Yeow.

Sandy and I went out for a long-overdue night of good times. We had some dinner at Tilli's, and on the way out, spotted some extraordinarily good looking guys, but we had to leave at that point to celebrate the 25th birthday of Tim. It was at Tim's house that, in my ever-growing stupor, I thought it funny to steal a tube of his toothpaste and floss and try to sell it to people at the bar for 25 cents a squirt, or $1.00 a string. (Sandy, marketing queen extraordinaire, came up with the clever pitch of walking up to people and saying, "Hey, you've got some shit in your teeth." I know, brilliant, right?) Sadly, we didn't make any money, because we kind of forgot about it until some hot guy in passing asked me if I had a lighter and I reached into my pocket and pulled out Crest Whitening. I felt pretty cool. Sandy laughed. The guy laughed. Good fun.

From there, we had to meet others at Kincade's, so we headed there and I met Guy #1, whose name I cannot remember for the life of me, yet I can manage to remember that he is a very cute tax attorney, which I didn't think existed. Overall USA score probably 7.6. Yeow!

From there it only got worse. We went to a late night bar and ran into the very same extraordinarily good looking guys from earlier in the night - must have been fate. Turns out that these guys were with a hot hockey player I knew at Miami who I had a crush on for about two weeks my senior year when I was going through a hockey phase. (Hot hockey player was there, and when I told him that I knew him, he very kindly said, "Oh yeah, well, I guess it's possible." What a dick. I don't like guys with dentures anyway.) This all coming from the guy that used to ask me how to check Hotmail in the computer lab. Hindsight is 20/20.

At least Hockey's friends were great. Sandy's boyfriend, Andy ("Sandy and Andy" - mildly nauseating), was more or less in love with her and kept asking me how to "woo" her the entire night. My boyfriend, Michael (this makes three - hey Jesus, why couldn't you throw down a Joe or a Brad or something???), was incredibly hot, dressed nicely, spoke Italian, told me I was hot every 5 minutes, and, in my esteem, is a suspected member of the Italian mafia. Yes, I think he is in the Mob. Not because he's Italian - I'm not a racist by any means, but I did get some weird vibes from him, particularly when he mentioned living in Lake Forest and stated he was "currently not doing too much, just having good times and hoping to open an Italian restaurant with his cousin". And then he proceeded to buy countless rounds of shots. Where is all of his disposable income coming from? I kind of hope that he's in the Mob because then I can say I was a mobster's girl. I must say it would add to my already-interesting love life experience.

Anyway, it was decided at some point that Sandy, Andy, Michael, and myself would be double dating in two weekends, which I must say, I am pretty excited about. I actually kind of like this guy, or at least what I know of him. I must like him, especially because I turned down a 3:42 am phone call from Dr. because I was still drinking at the bar with Mobby. I think I'll like him even more if he's a mobster. That would be very cool. Okay maybe it would scare me a little, but there is something undeniably sexy about a guy who illegally packs heat. Sandy told me this morning that she thought it'd be funny if I dated Mobby and got into a fight with him, and then someone asked where I was, and she pointed outside her apartment and said "See? That's her head, bobbing down the river". Sick, sick humor, but humorous nonetheless.

From there, the night snowballed into debauchery and more good times, and before you know it, Sandy and I were by ourselves at Tempo Cafe this afternoon eating French Dip sandwiches and trying to overcome massive hangovers. Last night was awesome.

So the moral of the story is this: earlier statement about meeting guys at bars retracted for the time being. At least until this guy asks me to "get out my f*cking shinebox". ($1 goes to the first person who can name this movie reference.)