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Wednesday, July 13, 2005 

The night of the crazies

I’m trying my best to be more accepting of Lansing. I’m trying to be less judgmental and open myself up to the wonderful opportunities that Lansing provides…socially. However last night I met the reason why I stay locked away in my house not interacting with the Lansing public.

I guess I’m on a bi guy trip right now. I met another one last night. I took him to the same bar I met the first bi guy at. Dan is in his late 40s, has a 15 y/o kid, and is an attorney. Kiki said she was from Atlanta. Anyway, Dan was a bit more outgoing than the first guy but was pretty skeevy. I mentioned that I was looking to have a good time and hang out and make the best of my situation in Lansing. He suggested a few bars, all of which I had been to and disliked. Then he suggested Omar’s. Now, if you’re from these parts, you know that Omar’s is this hole in the wall strip bar. I’ve never been there, but from what I hear, it’s not all that spectacular. Besides, I like my chain strip bars like Crazy Horse in Las Vegas. Getting back to the story, he suggests that I go to Omar’s for a good time. He seriously suggested that. Because there’s nothing odd about a straight girl going to a female strip bar by herself.

At that point, I was done with Dan and I started to tune him out. I did however make kissie face with the guy sitting next to Dan who told me he was from Montana and a sales rep for Pepsi. Wish I would have gotten his number.

Dan went on to tell me that he was a plaintiff’s attorney for accident injury claims. I don’t think it helped the situation much at all when I threw back my head, laughed, and shouted, “You’re an ambulance chaser!” Dan didn’t think it was so funny. Whatever. Now I see why he suggested that I go to Omar’s to have myself a good time.

So I met the gem of Lansing when I heard some unintelligible yammering going on to my right. An extremely intoxicated man (remember kids, it’s a Tuesday night) spilled his beer all over the bar and began apologizing. Think of the most intoxicated you've ever seen me (whether on the floor of a Holiday Inn in South Bend, Being carried out of a bar by a Buffalo Bill in New York, or any of the numerous times I've been to Chicago) and multiply that by, oh I don't know, 1800. He had blond, stringy hair that came down to his shoulders and a whispy blond moustache. He accidentally spilled some of his beer in his cigarettes, so he removed all of the cigarettes from their container and put them on the seat separating us. Minutes later, he tapped me on the shoulder. “Excuse me, miss? Can I buy some of those cigarettes off you?” He slurred. “Sure. How much you got?” I answered. “I’ll give you $1 a piece for them.” “Ok, let’s see your money.” “Wait a second. These are my cigarettes!” I later learned that my new found friend was a truck driver. I feel sorry for anyone who had to share the road with him after that encounter. I left the bar after that and prayed I’m make it to my car and not be rapped or murdered.

Ok Miss English major. So I can't spell. But you of all people should know you don't have to be smart when you're pretty.

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About me

  • I'm young, single, got a great ass, a serial dater, a sometimes drunk, addicted to the gym, liable to make fat girls cry, have a mild ED, think Notre Dame is the greatest college and Texas is the greatest state. Currently at a standstill since moving from Detroit Area, Michigan (tons of yuppies) to Mason, MI (noted KKK presence). Come be a part of my random, shocking, and exciting world.
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