I call my roommate “Smush.” It was originally “Mush,” but he moved in with me and gets more ass now so I changed it to Smush.
Smush is a repo driver and works six nights a week, so on the seventh night he usually gets obscenely drunk. Saturday night we head to the Bruin’s game around 6 PM, grab something to eat and start drinking. The game was uneventful and we lost, which usually enrages me because I am a huge Bruins fan, so this forces me to want to drink heavily and insult people in order to relieve my pain.
Immediately following the game we head to The Harp. Now I do not like The Harp at all, but the parking lot that I usually park in for Bruins games takes an hour to get out of if you try to leave right after the game, so we go in anyway.
Before I tell you about the first conversation of the night, I need to paint a little picture. It’s ten minutes after the Bruin’s game gets outs and I am wearing a Bruin’s jersey. I am approached but an overweight female.
Fat chick: Nice jersey. So did you go to the game?
Me: (Sarcastic) No, it's just a good way to pick up women.
Chick: (Trying to be flirty) Yea…it’s working.
Me: (Smirking) ..Looks like so would a ham and cheese!
Her: (Glares) What the fuck did you say?
Me: You might as well stop talking and buy me a drink to improve your odds.
Her: (Pauses) What are you drinking?
Me: Slimfast.
Her: Funny, asshole... Do you want a drink or not?
This chick seriously doesn't get it. She probably thinks me being an outrageous prick is me flirting with her.
Me: Grey goose Red Bull.
(She gets me a drink.)
Her: (Trying to be flirty.) So I bought you a drink, are you gonna be nice now?
Me: Depends. Are you gonna suck me off in the alley?
Her: (Still somehow thinking I'm flirting with her.) Well...not in the alley.
Now at this point, two guys Smush and I met up with after the game and the two kids I was out with are all in tears, except for the one guy who we just met who looks horrified.
Me: I just have to say, I’ve had a lot of chubbies hit on me before, but you by far take the most abuse.
Her: (My commentary finally starts to get to her) I have a diabetic issue, ass.
Me: Looks like you have a Twinkie issue! (My friends and I laugh; she's half-heartedly laughing too, not realizing we are laughing at her, not with her.) I guess if I can get over the whole you-being-fat thing, I kinda wanna fuck you to see how much punishment you can take in bed.
Her: Yeah? Well... we should def leave soon then.
Me: Are you kidding me? It’s 11, I don’t know if I can pound enough booze by closing time to go home with you!
Her: …so this is going nowhere.
Me: …faster than you have ever moved in your life!
Her: (Refusing to accept defeat) ...well do you want my number in case you change your mind?
Me: You have to be fist fucking me right now; am I on Punked? You have problems.
And she (finally) walked away......
Even I am amazed at how I never get slapped or had a drink thrown in my face by this girl. I’m not saying it hasn’t ever happened, but not nearly as much as it probably should, especially with cases like this.
At that point I’m tired of The Harp because of the lack of talent, so we leave and head to The Place.
Arriving at The Place, I realize the second problem of the night. It’s a weekend. I only drink at The Place on weekdays because weekends are fucking amateur hour, every hour, all night long. I’m not joking. I’m sure you cannot find me a legitimate adult in there.
Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don’t like to take advantage of young girls’ minds. It's usually very fun to insult them without them knowing what’s going on; it’s just that I am an adult and I do not want to leave the club to smoke a blunt with them, and I don’t want my Sunday morning pillow talk to be about Jersey Shore.
We decide to go in anyway because my friends love 19-year-old girls and I like to torture myself. Now the evening before I made the mistake of showing Smush the two YouTube videos of Teach Me How To Dougie and Moving Like Bernie, so after about 15 drinks that were consumed quite rapidly he was moving like “Dougie” and trying to get girls too teach him to “Bernie.”
Usually Smush being this drunk doesn’t help either one of us get laid, but I did manage to hang out with this one chick for a little while because she came over and found Smush hysterically funny (which he is). At this point I knew leaving with her was probably going to be impossible seeing I am going to have to pretty much carry him to the vehicle, so we leave.
Smush Decides He Needs to Piss
Dropping his pants to his knees like a child and taking a piss in the middle of State Street was hysterical, and I wasn’t the only one who thought so! Two very attractive blondes standing across the street saw what was going on and started laughing… so of course I’m going to try to use this to my advantage.
“What’s your name? He'll write it on the wall!” I yell out. They loved it, so Smush zips up, and we head across the street to talk to them.
I got one of their numbers and am actually sexting with her right now while writing this – yes, I know I am talented. I did not degrade this girl at the time and there was no funny dialect that I can recall, so I’ll stop my story there.
The events of the rest of the evening were something like: Smush yelling random shit at fat people outside McDonald’s, then he stopped a cab in the middle of the street to kick the bumper repeatedly, and then form tackled a couple of news paper dispensers.
The End.
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