...and this douchebag fell right into the bastard's trap. uh huh. it ain't no big thing
so. on saturday night, the bastard was invited by my ladyfriend to go to a birthday party for some members of her book club who are friends of susie kansas. by and large it was your typical uneventful good time. the kind you'd have on the lower east side.
crowded with people.
trendily dressed people, most of which come from somewhere else.
cardboard cutout of justin timberlake which was more popular than the handsomest man in the room.
it was good. but i walks to the bar and chuckles here who has already taken the liberty of showing up drunk (he's economical that way) or maybe he's just a cheap date and i decide to try and give him a wide berth which didn't workoutsomuch and he clips me in the gut with his elbow.
now, to be fair, it wasn't a hard elbow. it was the kind of soft elbow that a drunken nancy boy would give but, there's no excuse for bad manners.
"i think the phrase that is rattling around your empty dome was 'excuse me' ", and i proceed to order myself and my ladyfriend a drink.
"that guy gave you the dirtiest look"
"he had every right to, i told him he needed to excuse himself"
and so it goes. later he posed for me. sometimes things just fall into place. it's almost as much fun as mullet hunting, only it's with jackasses.