When: Friday night, 1:30am
Where: Lower East Side dance floor
You: mid-50s, dancing earnestly, business suit
Me: mid-20s, sipping water, same orange dress I've been wearing for three days
You asked me to dance and I told you that my mouth was full of ice. You asked me if I was shy. I told you that my mouth was full of ice. You asked me to dance again. My friends saved me. Here's a tip: If you ask a woman thirty years your junior to dance and she says that she can't because her mouth is full of ice, take that as a no.
When: Saturday night, 10:00pm
Where: birthday party of a mutual friend
You: only single guy at the party
Me: awkward
I feel like I have so many more inane comments and bungled jokes than I got the chance to share with you last night. Maybe we can meet for coffee so that I can embarrass myself further?
When: Saturday night, 2:00am
Where: the G train
You: wasted, falling on me, yelling indecipherably
Me: really not interested
Ew.
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4 comments:
the yelling wasn't indecipherable, but much of it was "IS THIS TRAIN GOING TO MANHATTAN? IS THIS TRAIN GOING TO MANHATTAN?" which clearly it wasn't. it's the G train, dude.
Followed by the equally brilliant comment, made by your equally inebriated, bridge & tunnel friend-
"Is this plane going to new jersey?!?!"
which, despite his louder and more enthusiastic efforts, was NOT funnier when screamed the second time.
however, it was slightly funnier when he said it for the third (though not final) time as we waited to transfer to the L.
Yeah, I feel like that last one was really a six-way missed connection. Or eight-way if you count his charming friends.
I guess the yelling wasn't so much 'indecipherable' as 'misguided'.
p.s. Everything's funnier in threes. Even inebriated shouting, apparently.
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