Cinderella can’t walk in Hooker Heels.

22 Apr

We decide to go to the bar for one of my very good friends birthday. There is half empty drinks sitting on the only open table. I walk over to the two guys sitting a few yards away. I ask them if they know if the table is open. They proceed to tell me that they find me attractive.

Well, everyone knows that a good birthday starts with a pregame. So, yes, I was already buzzed prior to our arrival to the bar. One guy is nice, and one is cute. The cute one lives up to the douche stereotype, but I ignore this because I have already consumed alcohol. We flirt and then I leave so my group can stake our claim at the table. We continue drinking.

I meet up with Bar Stud later. He has gotten cuter. We talk for awhile and he asks if I want to see his dog in the truck.  No, dog is not code for anything dirty.

We walk outside and there is in fact a dog locked in his truck. I go up to the cracked window and the dog violently growls at me. Chill with the anger, bro.

I ask him what the dogs name is. He says his name is Gangster Baby. That’s not even a real name. That sounds like he just made it up on the spot.  He opens the truck door and the dog instantly runs away.  Probably because he was named Gangster Baby. What the heck is he going to name his children if Gangster Baby is already taken?
Oh, Hi! Nice to meet you! This is my son, Thug Life, and my daughter, Money Maker.
Seriously.

I shiver, he gives me his jacket.

Thanks to my good friend, beer, we still somehow end up kissing.  Then, I spot some of my friends leaving. They see me, and I think oh fuck. I am extremely embarrassed. They pretend not to judge me while telling me my other friends are wondering where I am.

I try to nonchalantly walk in their direction. I trip on my heel and slam to the ground. They continue walking trying to spare me the embarrassment.

Not again! I stand up as fast as I can. I sit on his truck seat examining the bloody damage. Bar Stud is now Bar Dud, and has officially lost all appeal. He is kneeling checking out my bleeding knees. I am busy cursing my entire life’s existence when he asks me if I want him to kiss it to make it feel better. Excuse me? I have a Dad, thank you. And who does he think he is? Edward Cullen? Because I feel like I’m in the Twilight zone. This isn’t happening to me right now. Get the hell away from my blood, fucking freak!

I literally jog back into the bar, still in my heels, telling him I have to go. I feel like a slutty Cinderella.

My other friends that are still in the bar spot me.
“Did you fall?”
“No, I don’t fall. I stumble gracefully.”
“You have blood running down your shin!”
“I need to close my tab.”

Humiliation complete.

6 Responses to “Cinderella can’t walk in Hooker Heels.”

  1. sassypanties April 22, 2013 at 4:46 pm #

    I think GOD that I passed right over that phase. I get all giddy when someone compliments my perfume in an elevator. You, my dear, are a rock star. How are the knees?

    • sassypanties April 22, 2013 at 4:47 pm #

      Also *thank GOD, not *think* God…fucking typos.

  2. sassypanties April 23, 2013 at 5:14 pm #

    Also #2 – I’ve nominated you for The Sunshine Award. I have no idea if it’s a “cool” award or not, but I was nominated for it and that’s what I’d like to think it is! :) Check my latest blog post for details.

    • TBT April 23, 2013 at 9:30 pm #

      Thank you! I’m flattered! :)

  3. hookeymonster April 25, 2013 at 1:20 pm #

    hahaha fucking brilliant. Not for your knees though, that’s terrible really.

    • TBT April 25, 2013 at 7:34 pm #

      thanks! glad to see you’re still around!

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