Triple play

Evening gents,

As this will be my last post for a couple weeks, my goal was to have 3 nights out, all of them blog worthy.

Thursday comes around. I head out with my boss (I'm sorry!) a girl I work with and her boyfriend. I was a bit dubious at first-how would it turn out? I don't even know if I was going to like this guy, money was tight, I was pretty knackered and I didn't fancy getting rimmed. I kind of wanted to sack it off, but ploughed on through. Good job I did. The guy turns up, and he turns out to be a real good bloke. In training to be a cop. We start talking about rugby, as he played at uni, but had to stop as he got concussed trying to hurdle a fence whilst streaking. Me and him ditch the girls and start doing shots of bacardi 151. 70% proof and in double shot glasses. It's like drinking double shots of the woods in lounge. A few more shots and a few beers later, his girlfriend overhears him say:

'you know how it is, you have fillet mingon at home, but some times you just want to go out for a cheesesteak'

What a line for your bird to hear you say. Fortunately, I manage to pull it back by saying he was telling me about all the different verities of steak you can get in this country, and I didn't realise how many ways there were to cut a cow. Somehow this works, he shakes my hand and buys me and himself a shot to celebrate the fact he has just got away with telling his bird he cheats on her with 'bloggers'. We decide to head on to the next bar. These girls are giving out these shots of something called 'zwak'. They are quite fit, and they recognise me from last week. I realise at this point I have said about 5 words to the girl who rimmed me last week. I don't care, I plough on with zwak girl. She's just giving out free shots, and I feel like she is enjoying my chat. Then my boss storms out, saying I don't care about her! What a joke, so I carry on with zwak girl, who I think feels fairly awkward about it so stops talking to me! My boss has yet again ruined it for me.

Anyway, move on to next bar, and meet some of my friends from rugby and a couple of girls I vaguely know around town. Am now spending even less time with my boss, and she blows her lid, again. Really quite viscous about it. Anyway go home with the 2 girls and this guy who has bought beers and claims that as he is training to be a cop, he knows where the cops are and so can get away with drinking in the street. Walk past a bush and push my boss in it, she gets a big thorn in her face. She's still not happy even though me and the guy are laughing our heads off. I have a discussion with him about how we love 'banging broads' and he gives me his number-he is going to take me to a baseball game in Philly, and we are going to go tailgating before hand-I'd imagine this is similar to getting pissed in the carpark at twicks. Him and his girlfriend pop off to my spare room. My boss sits there and says we need to have a discussion. I roll my eyes at her, and growl her out. I'm still baffled about this, I didn't really say much, I just went down on her in my lounge. We go to bed, but don't get rimmed this week, sorry boys.

Struggle through work on Friday, with my boss saying we are not shagging again, and says we should just be friends. I have two issues with this: neither of those things are going to happen. We will shag again, and we will not be friends if we don't..

Get a text off my friend Jeff from rugby. Happy hour from 5-7, and head over around 5:30. We are drinking top shelf Manhattans, made with pure alcohol. Jeff tells me he is going to take me down to Virginia Tech in the summer and we are going to have a massive weekend. Start chatting to this older bloke at the bar. He runs a private members club in town called the Moose. It's an international drinking club which specialise in providing a home away from home and cheap booze-I think it's men only. But this is ok as I love men, and birds are shit to talk to. I tell him my MD is a member, and slip his name into conversation.

'yeah my boss Ben Robins is a member'
'Your boss is Ben Robins?
'Yeah, he comes here sometimes'
'When's he coming next?'
'Two weeks or so, why?'
'That guy's a champion, what's his favourite beer? Anywhere in the world, I'll get it for that guy'
'Sure, I'll send him an email'
'And you, you want to be a member? I'll sponsor you, just bring him along next time he's here. Here's my card, let me know what beer he wants'

How surreal. Ben's influence on this place knows no boundaries. I can not wait until I have the same kind of influence, apparently he walked into this place, said make me a member and paid the several thousand dollar life time fee. Lad.

Head outside as Jeff wants to smoke, where it is waitress service. Our waitress is really fit, called Emily. My friend Brendan knows her-sends me in with the accent. I say sends me in, she comes over, as she is our waitress. Start chatting to her, she tells me about spending news years eve in London. It gets a bit dull listening to American's holiday stories-unless something brutal happens (more on this later). Jeff walks over, and tells me to ask for the Emily special. So I do, and a huge smile erupts across her face. 'who told you about that?' 'No one, I just assumed you'd have a special' 'Meet me in the after hours bar later after work and I'll show you want it is!' Yes!! Could it be? Nosh in the toilets finally?!!! I'm excited.

We move on to the bar which sponsors our rugby team to get beer and food. I go to the toilet, and as I am trying to get out, Jeff puts his hand on the door, shutting me in. I have a great idea-I'm not going to push back, and then will smash it when he's let up a bit. So I do, he's not longer holding it. The door swings open viscously, I topple out and the door smashes a girl we are with in the face. She starts to bleed and her cheek swells up. All the boys find it hilarious, she doesn't and doesn't really talk to me. I half heartedly offer her a drink to make up for it. I have no intention of getting her one, so don't. Sit down at a table, and get a pitcher of beer in. This guy, Tom, joins us. He is a cunt. Really loud and obnoxious. As soon as he opens his mouth I turn to someone and say, this guy's a cunt. He starts talking about nothing in particular. He claims he is the only one with a life around the table-he is the only one who has a proper job.

I must have done something like roll my eyes or something, but he could see from my facial expression that I think he's a cunt-I'm not good at hiding my emotions around people like that. So I call him a cunt. He tries to say something back, but everyone is laughing at him.

I have meanwhile bet Jeff he can not sink a pitcher of beer. 20 dollars riding on it. He fails less than half way down. A girl-the one I fingered is sitting at the end of the table and asks if we'd give her the 20 if she finishes it. It's about 2 pints. Down it goes. Jeff coughs up. It was pretty unbelievable. I fancy her a lot less, and actually having seen her sober, she was only just a 1 on the binary code.

Eat and move on to the next place, a bar I haven't been to before, famous for it's cougars. Brendan and I sit on the side, watching these 40-50 year olds strut their stuff on the dance floor, and I'm impressed.

There is something you need to know about me. There are two sides to me when I drink, and you never know which one is going to come out-the one which loves a good growl, which has made a lot of appearances of late, and the one which likes to pull his trousers down, dance in his party pants and do ridiculous things just for losing 5s. This side normally is about when I'm with Jack and Robin. The two sides don't go to well together. For some reason, the second option came out on this night in question. Girls stopped being of interest. So I head outside where some of my friends are. I teach them 5s...

Within 30 minutes I have got under a girls seat and sniffed her arse, gone over to a married couple sitting on some decking outside and put my arm around her and gone and stood next to a girl, awkwardly close and not said anything for about 4 minutes. Americans aren't very creative at coming up with ideas for consequence 5s, so these were all mine. Theirs were more about: go talk to that girl ect. So my one friend loses. Picture the scene, before you appreciate what happens next.

We are outside, in a fenced off VIP type area. The it's like a decking, and below us, down some steps is a another outdoors section with floor made of concrete. The deck looks out onto the lower section directly below where people are playing an American bar game called shuffleboard. There is a metal fence on top of the upper deck, perhaps stopping people from falling off, but it's about waist height.

My friend has to go up to a girl. She's on the upper deck standing next to the fence. Starts chatting, not much in it. A guy walks out from inside, and says 'hey man, stop talking to my girl, I gotta get my drink from in there, I want you gone by when I get back' He starts walking back inside. At this point, I probably would of walked away, he wasn't small. My friend goes 'or what' The guy stops. Turns around, rage has turned his hand into a fist. He runs at my friend. Tries to do a running punch. Obviously as a big guy, he's not that dynamic, so my friend ducks out the way. The guy swings, misses and topples over the fence and smashes his face on the concrete floor 3 metres below. I run over laughing, start pointing and laughing, get most of the people on the upper deck to do the same and call him a dick head. Blood is everywhere, he has landed on a beer bottle, his yellow t-shirt is now severely blood stained. The bouncer comes over, kicks him out. We start waving good bye. To really rub salt into the wound, his bird doesn't care, and my mate is still hitting on her.

Jeff is pulling the bird who necked the beer, I decide I want a piece of the action and head over, push him out the way, put my tongue down her throat and then start celebrating like I won the lottery. It's now 3, so head over to the after hours bar, hoping to see Emily, and find out more about an Emily special. I don't find her, but am at the bar, and look over. There is a stunning girl sitting 2 seats away. She looks like Joanne (I'll tell you who 'Joanne' is by some other means), a girl we went to uni with. Start talking to her mate, she says she has a boyfriend, who walks over. He's really fat and drunk. He starts saying 'vintage' over and over again as it's written on my top. I say loudly, so the really fit girl, Jess, can hear: 'Oh, I'm so glad you are educated enough to read' He stops talking, and I see a smile come over Jess' face. Jackpot. I start chatting to her-the standard stuff-oh my god, your accent's amazing ect. Convince her that she should show me around Philly at some point whilst I'm here. I was drunk so don't remember half the conversation, but it must have gone well, as as she go beckoned away to leave, she gave me her number. I'm angry she left.

Find a really rank, skinny ginger bird, who turns out to be a lesbian. She says she's straight 15% of the time. I make a joke that this is more of a chance than I normally get with a girl. The ex-heroin addict, turned alcoholic isn't a fan, and goes home. I am left to trudge home on my own, without getting nosh (properly).

I wake up on Saturday, watch the US game and make my way to NYC for a night out with Jaron. Am fairly hungover, but want to get nosh, no matter what. We get Mexican food, then head out to some local bars. We had a conversation about how I need to change my approach from one of a shotgun, spraying pellets everywhere, to a more sniper rifle type approach where I set a target. I plan to try it. First bar, spot an average looking girl at the bar, she's come on her own, name's claire. Why the fuck not? Time to start snipering. Turns out I have good aim (LOL). Give her my number, tell her to text me later-she is officially my back up option. We go somewhere else to meet up with some friends from work. Jaron doesn't get in as he tried to sneak in without paying. I leave him outside like a good mate, whilst I spend 2 hours in there. He goes back and finds claire. 2 hours later, I return and they are hammered. It's about 1 in the morning, I'm pretty tired from 3 nights of boozing. But I am determined to do better than Claire.

Good looking blonde girl was sitting next to me. I start talking to her:

'I'm sorry, but your accent really creeps me out'
'Why?'
'I went to London for the summer when I was 18, and the dad of the family I was saying with who were close family friends, molested me'
'Oh'
'Yeah'
'I'm sorry'

How do you recover from this? You don't. You settle for Claire. Get with Claire, and convince her to come back to Jaron's flat. She comes back, Jaron tries for a 3some and fails. He goes to bed, I pull down my jeans. I am wearing my party pants, and she freaks out and the pink and yellow striped monstrosity. I laugh, and change into my rugby shorts. Going ok, she is in her pants and has a cracking body. I try to take them off, but she has weird rules-pants don't come off on one night stands. What? How am I going to growl her out? I pull them to one side. She tosses me off, I get on top and put it in her, but she moves away and says no. Not a lot I can do. She's obviously not drunk enough. And I have the England game to wake up for. Pass out. She leaves Jaron's flat the next morning very early. She had told me she was writing a blog, so here is the link to her post about me: http://commitmentissuesandsex.wordpress.com/2010/06/29/almost-boffing-the-brit/ (I have just text her to get the name of this, for the blog-she was literally a blogger, in more ways than one!LOLOLOLOL)

I don't think it puts me in the most complementary light, I am seriously good at growling, she just is picky...

We are watching the football at Jaron's mate's flat. He works for a big investment bank, and has a flat in Union Square. He pays $2700 a month. It's huge. I'm so angry I don't work for a bank, he went to the same Uni as me and is only 4 years older.

Get back to mine, and decide that being away like this is a great time to experiment with new ways to do things. I decide to call Jess, and not text her as I would probably do in England. I don't really think anything of this at first, so pick up the phone. Straight to voice mail, I panic. I have not prepared for this scenario. What do I say on a voice message? I don't even know my own number in the US. I leave this message: "hi Jess, it's Peter, I met you pretty late on Friday night..... Err.... Anyway, just ringing to err... remind you that you promised to show me around Philly, so call me, this is my number, give me a call this week." Not the best attempt, and the way I had to remind her she promised to show me around was not witty as I intended, but came out creepy and desperate. So yeah. I fucked it up. I was about to pick up the phone and leave another. Then my rational mind took over as I remembered a certain scene from 'Swingers' with Vince Vaughan. Needless to say I will have to try ringing again. A bad one to start off on as she was so fit. I'll try an uglier girl, to boost my confidence. Nothing back yet, here's hoping she'll call tomorrow or later in the week.

Parents arrive tomorrow and away this weekend, but Robin will be here in a week and 2 days which means this blog will have 2 of us causing trouble.

Happy hunting

Peter