Sunday, January 22, 2012
Why do drunk women make out?
This is similar to how I feel when I'm at a nightclub around inebriated women left unattended by their husbands. I'm the daddy who doesn't want to spoil the fun.
After a few triangular glasses are emptied, the carnage ensues. Daddy likey. Wife #1 says to Wife #2, "I bet you're a great kisser. Men don't know how to kiss. I love the soft lips on a woman. Guys have itchy fur around their mouths."
I took no offense.
Naturally, it was time to lip-seal the deal and the two women went at it like teenagers under football stands. I sat next to the show, giddy like a kid with his first scooter. As they got busy, Wife #2 grabbed my thigh and squeezed. I felt like the branch held between a soldier's teeth while he's having a limb amputated.
"How'd that work out for you? Is she a good kisser?"
"You're going to write about this, aren't you?"
"Only if you two involve some breast fondling in round two."
I was only kidding but I turned out to be kindling, as they went at it again. I looked around the club, wide-eyed, hoping my fellow swine weren't missing the show. A few men noticed and smiled like they found a beer geyser. Many women noticed and wrinkled their noses like they found a skid mark in the guest bathroom toilet.
This playful fun went on for hours. The group planned to taxi back to birthday girl's house later that night. I was invited, yet I passed. I deserve a gold star for having such restraint, but I fear I'll receive a rainbow-colored one instead. I've learned to leave, create my own reality, and avoid regret and armed spouses.