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You can read about part 1 here.

This time around these girls seemed more welcoming.  I guess they were feeling lonely and needed some attention after not getting hit on for a while.  Whatever the case may be, we were in.  We chit chatted for a while until they told us they were going to bed and asked us to join them.

Jackpot!

If only it were that easy…

Unfortunately for us Bed, was in fact, a club.

While we walked the few blocks to the club and engaged in some typical drunken conversations, It became fairly obvious that they these girls had quite the contrasting personalities.  One was a straight up bitch a.k.a. [Mother Hen] and the other was, well I guess you could say she was “open to suggestions” [OTS].  I could only assume that Balls-to-the-walls arrived at a similar conclusion because he began to isolate and aggressively pursue OTS.

It was the classic prisoner’s dilemma:

The obvious win-win option would be for both of us to hit on mother hen, however neither of us wanted to talk to her because she was a total bitch.  It dawned on me the outcome if we both chose the more attractive option, then the only thing keeping us warm at night would be our stubbornness.

For the sake of keeping the night alive, I decided to jump on the grenade.

When we got to the club, I spent the next hour or so feeding Mother Hen alcohol so that she would shut the fuck up.  Instead, this plan had an inverse effect.  It seemed as though the amount of alcohol she consumed had a positive correlation to how highly she though of herself.

The more she drank the more she talked about was how undrunk she was.  To top things off, she added that she couldn’t date Asian guys because she was above them.

At this point I considered bailing, but I looked over and saw that Balls-to-the-walls hittin’ off with OTS.  I gritted my teeth and carried on, asking the bartender to drown Mother Hen in drinks.  I could tell from the slurred speech and the lack of coordination that she was feeling the effects, but when she told me she couldn’t drink anymore, I told her she was weak.

Apparently that struck a nerve.

Determined to prove her tolerance, Mother Hen went into a drinking-frenzy and insisted that she was just “really buzzed.”

“Really buzzed” happened to be just enough to get Mother Hen and OTS in a cab and back to our hotel with little resistance.  During the ride, I was getting nervous because Mother Hen’s eyes were glossy and it definitely wasn’t because it was a romantic evening.  She started swaying back and forth with her eyes half open so I braced myself for the liquid projectile.  Fortunately, we pulled up to our hotel just in time.  I yanked her out of the cab and as she let loose in the nearby bushes.  I held her hair back and reassured OTS that she was fine.  I saw a sign of relief on Balls-to-the-wall’s face when I recommended that they get some water from the hotel.

We were staying at the Viceroy Hotel so we took them to the rooftop where there was an infinity pool.  It looked amazing at night, so we stripped down into our underwear and dove in…except for Mother Hen.  She took one glance atus and spewed oral diarrhea all over the pool deck before passing out in one of the beds.

With confirmation that Mother Hen was out of commission, I climbed out of the pool and went to bed.

Wingman out.



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2 Comments

  1. You can be my wingman any time.


One Trackback/Pingback

  1. By Bienvenido a Miami part 1 « gambled and lost on 05 Oct 2010 at 3:50 am

    […] you know, but you don't know…nobody nose Me? « The Weekend of No Shame Bienvenido a Miami part 2 […]

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