Oodles of Noodles

I’m making my way over to my favorite place. I gotta get my body movin’, shake the stress away.

It’s a typical Saturday night: I’m usually an hour late to meet the girls…We park the car in the lower garage and walk a block to my favorite place, Last Supper Club…We have a little too much fun for a few hours, then make our way across the street to the hot dog guy…There are usually some interesting characters hanging out by the hot dog stand and they keep us entertained while we enjoy our food and a bottle of water. After all is said and done, we climb into our car and head to grab some food or roll out to an after-party.

I may have left a few things out…Did I mention that the guy that works at the door, Luke, it a great kisser. No matter how much of a player I know he is, I still have a little weak spot in my spine for him. Then, there are the unfortunate guys that dance with me. And by dance, I mean fully clothed, body grinding, simulated sex that is called dance because there’s a full room of people and music so loud that it changes the rhythm of your heart beat. They try to ask for my phone number, but I always find a way to sneak off without a digit dropping. Aside from the guys, the girls are hot too. By hot, I mean bitchy and by girls, I mean whores. Some random girl threatens to kick my ass at least once during the night. By once, I mean repeatedly until I have to leave the club for fear that I will be beat like a pinata. I’m not a fighter, I’m a lover. The funny thing is, I go back every Saturday for more…

Last night at the hot dog stand we met some interesting guys…like Decker soft coat, he was wearing a cashmere coat at a club. Hmmm…lame. He preferred to be called Decker soft rod…I said “He must use a lot of lotion.” OUCH. Then, there was his loser friend who’s name I didn’t even catch, not that i wanted to know it at all. The only way to describe him is with the phrase douche bag. Then, along come some nice Air Force men. By nice, I mean idiotic and by men, I mean assholes. Well, there was one guy, Blair - the only sober one, that was very nice. His friends should have been taking notes. I guess some people are just born with class and others are not.