9:31 a.m. - 2004-10-04
I should have gone with the Viking. The Viking is actually A, Sully's friend, but he rides a motor cycle, and I didn't see an extra helmet for me. I'm all for a good ride, but I'm also a stickler for safety and not getting my head scrambled. Besides, I've never been on a Harley before, and even though his is huge, I mean HUGE, I'm afraid I might pop off the back. I'm not so graceful.
The Viking is something out of a comic book. Like his bike, he's humongous. About 6 foot, 7 maybe? About 300 pounds, crazy, fanatical eyes and stickie outie hair that screams berzerker. And he took a shine to me. Sully told me later that he's always liked me. He thinks I'm charming. I think he's...really, really scary.
I would definately want him at my back in a dark alley, but I'm not so sure abou the dating aspect. I mean, I'm 5'8", almost 6 in girlie shoes or shit kickers, and I can still fit my head under his armpit. I like big and ugly, but he might be a little too far out even for me.
I did get a cuddle in though, just to test the waters...
He soon left though, claiming that the carnival lights were making him dizzy. Which left me to help Tod with his sales. I kicked ass, selling wares to all and sundry and making a killing for my friend. Who has the nicest ass I've ever seen, by the way. I couldn't help staring at it, and wanting to go in for a grab.
But what are friends for if not to salivate over them? Bio-hazardness aside, the man is hot, hot, hot.
We did eventually get back to The Bar, Sully in tow, and relaxed in the back yard with food (thank god!) and coke. Sully was in a rare emotional mood and talked about how much he valued Six and I. Then as Six was inside getting re-fills he looked me in the eyes and told me he knew that I had an uncanny ability to know what had to be done and to get it done no matter what. No matter how much it hurt.
I didn't think he saw through me. I didn't think he ever noticed. I was shocked, and very pleased. Then he made an asinine comment about my boobs, and how much he liked boobs and that brought us back to the easy comraderie.
The girls were out that day. I was wearing a light, long sleeved t-short that was supple, and stretchy and covered everything, but let the curves show. It worked like a charm.
If I had had any interest in college aged boys, I'd have been hooked up several times over. But, as it is I'm an old bitch with a young face that likes men with some age and experience on them. So I settled for attention from the Viking, Tod and Sully, and whoever grabbed my ass over and over again in the crowded bar.
Just another day in The City.
(I really want to write about the incident where I told Mardis Gras Mike that I would do him if I had a bottle of bleach, but I'm still feeling like a big pile of stinky shit about it, so go read Sixweasels.)