Monday, April 25, 2011

Bourgeois Blues

I love Taj Mahal. I have ever since I was in college, dating a guy who had his Real Thing album on vinyl; we'd listen to it on his record player in his dorm room (and later in his off campus apartment, we dated sophomore through senior years), while hanging out, drinking cheap wine, smoking pot, eating Chinese food, having sex. We wore that record out.

So I was sooo freaking excited to find out that Taj Mahal would be playing, live, near me a oouple weekends ago, at a tiny little hole in the wall place. Seemed too good to be true. And it totally was.

Don't get me wrong, it was still cool to see Taj play. But I didn't get to hear him play any of those cool old songs that I love so much - it was more of his recent stuff. Good stuff though; I liked everything I heard. Gearing up for it, though, I was listening to and singing all those old songs, and I didn't get to hear any of them.

But it still would've been a good night, but for these assholes who were all around me. It was a hole in the wall place, like I said; standing room only. So I made my way up to the front of the room, right in front of the stage, right before Taj came on. During a break, while people were talking and stepping back to the bar for another round of drinks before the main act. And when these assholes who had been right up front realized that I'd snuck my way past them, they gave me such shit. Tried to bully me out of the way, back behind them.

That's where my lawyer training came in handy, though. I have to say, the longer I've practiced law, the better I've become at being a bitch. And man, can I be a stone cold bitch when I want to be. I didn't back down from them, and eventually they gave up trying and let me be.

But this one chick, though; for some reason, she decided to molest me with her breasts to try to get me to back down. Seriously, she rubbed her tits all up against me, constantly, while saying shit in my ear and trying to get me to back off from her group.

I don't get it. How was that supposed to run me off? I don't go for girls, I don't have sex with girls; but I have to admit that it wasn't unpleasant to let this chick, who had a hot body, rub her tits against my arm, and against my back. So I told her, feel free to keep doing that until you get yourself off; feels pretty good to me. It didn't make her back off at first, but after a while she gave up.

What is it with people. There I was, expecting to just have a good time, listen to some music that would take me back to those good old days of hanging out with my cool, mellow, bohemian boyfriend of the amazing sex drive, and instead I was surrounded by young asshole bullies, who didn't give a shit about the music; and the closest I got to sex was a little bit of lesbian molestation.

Oh John, ain't it hard.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Slurp. Slurp.

I went out for drinks after work tonight with a group of lawyers and other professionals, who I know solely through business connections.

Only one of them is someone I actually work with in my office, who I can claim to really be truly friends with, to the point that I don't mind embarrassing myself in front of her. The others - well, I know them well enough to go out for drinks with them, but I like to think that I'm all professional when I mingle with them.

Tonight I found myself saying the word "slurping" to them when describing sounds made while one gives a blowjob.

Yeah. I'm a real professional. A true class act. My momma would be proud.