Nothing Says “I love you” like CAPSLOCK

So the other night I decided it was time get out of the apartment and meet people. I eased into my jeans, pulled on my red spaghetti strap shirt, shrugged into my vest, touched up my makeup, and pulled on my ankle-cut boots. I double checked where I was going, where I would switch trains. I put a notebook, two condoms, my wallet, my house keys, a pencil, a sharpie marker pen, all my tips, and lip gloss into my purse. I put on my bomber jacket and strutted my stuff right out of the house.

Then I called my sister and told her I was going to Porno Bingo. That conversation went something like this:

“You sound really happy,” Persephone said.

I grinned widely. “I am! I’m going to Porno Bingo!”

Why do you tell me these things!?!” She was completely horrified.

 

“I don’t have a problem with Porno Bingo, but you are my little sister!”

“I watch porn.”

“That’s fine, it’s something that should be done in the privacy of your own home, in your room, with the lights off!”

“I usually have the lights on and ————–”

*traumatized noise from Persephone*

 

“You’re my sister! You should not know about sex!”

“Persephone, I have had sex.”

“MICHELLE don’t say such things!”

 

After hanging up on her, I sent my parents texts so that they would know I was having fun on the town. I was summarily told “You go girl!” and “Keep your clothes on.” I probably should have mentioned that the rugby team the fundraiser was for was a GAY rugby team and the bar it was happening at was a GAY bar.

 

I arrived at the bar and flattened myself against a wall. I knew no one, I was completely alone and I have always had trouble getting a bartender’s attention to order a drink. In sum, I was fucked and not in the fun way. I looked around desperately hoping that John would be there and I could unawkwardly go up to him and he would save me – John was the man who had given me the flyer for the event, (medium latte in a small cup).

I spotted him. He was wearing a rugby shirt. He was one of the players. Awkwaaaaaard. I scooted over and tried to make eye-contact. Failed. Moved closer and said his name. OH THANK GOD HE RECOGNIZED ME.

Then I ended up next to Mark from Utah. We bonded over SL,UT. Persephone had lived there for a while.

I didn’t even have to worry about getting the bartender’s attention, one of them came to me! He brought me my drink, and then he got me a table and he was very nice. I bonded with the other rugby players, told people when they missed numbers and assured people that, yes, I was indeed John’s barista and that he did just hand me the flyer that morning.

It was a glorious night. I bought bingo tickets each round and on the last one I went right up to where they were reading the numbers and guarded my tickets like a geriatric retiree. I didn’t win any gay porn, sadly, but one of the rugby players (who said he would give me the porn if he won) asked me if we needed to go to a porn store so I could get some. I told him we didn’t have to, it was the principle of the matter, not the actual porn. I just wanted to win something and then rub it in Persephone’s face that I owned a porn DVD.

There was also one guy who kept calling false bingos. He had to take his shirt off (the first time) and show his ass (the second time). I had my picture taken twice. Once with the Mark from Utah and once with the shirtless dude. I am sure in both I look like a ghost. So. Fucking. Pale.

After I squared my tab, I headed home. Two very large G&Ts and no dinner made me a little floaty. At the Lexington & 59th street station a young man struck up a conversation with me with the inspired line of:

“The weather must not be too bad out then.” I was wearing no sleeves and holding my jacket. I laughed and we talked. We talked after we got on the train and then when we got to his stop (Queensboro) he offered his hand, his name (Frank) and his number. I said, “Sorry, not tonight!”

Then I promptly drunk messaged my friend. She sent me an e-mail the next morning after laughing herself nearly sick at my drunk antics entitled:

I HOPE YOU SEE THIS IN THE MORNING AND WEEP ALKY.

[I laughed because I hadn’t been THAT drunk. The contents of the e-mail were our conversation.]

 

friend:  text me when you’re almost there so i’ll know

littlegentian:  Kewl

 

YOU USED KEWL LIKE A VALLEY GIRL. HAHAHA.

 

friend:  are you drunkkkkkk. there are no butts. i lied to you.

littlegentian:  YOU BITCH

friend:  suckaaa

littlegentian:  I AM DRUNK

friend:  SEE. I BET YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW TO BUY PIZZAS

littlegentian:  I FUCKING KNOW HOW TO BUY PIZZA

friend:  PSH

NU UH

YOU TOTALLY WOULD GET MUGGED

littlegentian: NUUUUUU LIESSSSSSSS

friend:  U A LIAH

littlegentian:  Ig

I have to pee

friend:  BYE

littlegentian:  I didn’t win any porn though : (

friend:  nooo

that’s what you win!?

littlegentian:  Yuuuuuup

Sent at 12:16 AM on Thursday

friend you’ll get it next time

littlegentian:  Awwwww yiiiisssssss

Sent at 12:19 AM on Thursday

littlegentian:  Gay porn tooooo

friend:  lots of butts in those

littlegentian:  Lol

 

So in sum:

A little hungover the morning after and lots of great memories.

3 Comments Add yours

  1. Okay, that was interesting. I’ve actually worked bingo for old people (this happens later in life whey you have children then sign your children up for sports then you have to volunteer to help at bingo night) and the old people all have hair growing off the tips of their noses and keep weird troll dolls for good luck and they all yell at you if you’re tall (I am) ’cause you block the board with the magic bingo numbers and they smell weird too – I’m guessing porno bingo would be much more fun, equally as smelly but in a good way 😉
    AnnMarie
    keep writing – it’s great stuff!

    Like

    1. I have to say, your bingo night sounds just as interesting as mine. I think there is a lot there you could mine. I love that they have weird troll dolls for good luck, it reminds me of all those weird sports superstitions fans and players have. Thank you for commenting! You definitely made me laugh!

      Like

      1. I did omit they fed us too. The food was a little frightening. I don’t know if it was the lighting or the hamburger meat was actually a tad green. Yes, the bingo players are a strange bunch and the future post is on my burnout blog list. I’m storing anything I think of, for the day my brain just says – ‘that’s it you’re on your own’
        AnnMarie
        I thank you for your writing – it’s all things good and kept me reading. 🙂

        Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s