Mexican North Face Sunday School Teacher, Whiskey, and Lame Friends

Originally Posted: Friday, May 30, 2014

So check it out. I meet up with this cute Mexican chick after work. Drove 30 min to meet her. She turns out to be a cutie and pretty cool. Has “fuck me” eyes and tells me to tell her roomies (mediocre). I’m an old friend from high school. Doesn’t mention which high school we supposedly went to together. Maybe she doesn’t think to cover her bases. Maybe she thinks I’m not the type to remember. Take pride in getting you some dick, guurl! Dem roomies jellyWe drink whiskey and talk and fuck twice. She tells me there’s a sweet burger joint I need to try, so we drive to some dive bar. ‘Twas sweet indeed. Medium rare wit all dem feeexins homie (shoutout Kenny P). A good sign a burger’s gonna be good is when they ask you how you want it done. And you best say medium rare at the most you heathen.

Oh yeah, she mentioned she was a Sunday School teacher, which I thought was funny and I Was happy about because that’s a new flag for me. She was the kind that believes in the father, the son, and the holy spirit and all that jazz. Which is the kind that’s cool with banging dudes she met on a smartphone app earlier that day. I’m coo wit it.

She says she wants to meet up with her friends at some bar and I say fine(Mistake #1: It was late and I had to be at work at 8:30 am. I already had food, sex, and liquor and had nothing to gain from going to another bar). At this point, it’s agreed that I’ll sleep at her place (closer to work than mine) and drive to work (protip: keep a spare white shirt in your car). And pay $50 for fucking parking like the chump that I am. I drive us to some bar in Evanston. Who the fuck even goes to Evanston. Isn’t that for like retirees who made poor life choices and couldn’t make Florida work? Whatever.I was drunk and in a good mood having just eaten an awesome burger when we rolled up to the bar. I have a box of surgical gloves in my door side holder thing and decided to put on a pair for reasons I can’t recall. I probably thought it was hilarious. I still sort of do.Her friends turn out to be a couple. My chick is 22 and has her shit somewhat together. She’s a manager at the North Face store and goes to school (and her bedroom is decked out in North Face shit. She gives me a North Face protein shaker when I ask for water for the ride). Her girlfriend is 25 and works retail and her boyfriend is 31. Don’t know what he does, but he’s a fucking loser feminist in skinny jeans and a hipster beard.I can smell his condescending pheromones. He’s upset that I own a collared shirt and he does not. He is, for some reason, very displeased with the fact that I accessorize with rubber gloves and calls me disrespectful. I tell him he’s just upset I’m a better hipster than he is. I make a 25% effort to pretend to care about them and drink my boredom away.It’s 2:30 am now and I tell NorthFace, ‘Let’s go, I’m tired.’ She disappears for 10 minutes with her girlfriend while I play bags with FaggotBoyfriend and hit on 2 girls at the bar. She comes back and tells me I can’t come back to hers because her friends think I’m an asshole. The look in her eyes is pure heartbreak. Or disgust. Whichever works. FaggotBoyfriend chimes in that she can do better and stands in front of me trying to be a shield or some shit despite me making no physical advances whatsoever. I push him out of the way. Not to get to her, but because I don’t need this guy chest bumping me and getting hippie slime on my tailored English shirt. He trys to play tough. I laugh at FaggotBoyfriend, who is smaller than me and has clearly never hit a man. She says I didn’t pay her enough attention throughout the night and was too assertive with the bartender (ugly) when buying HER a fucking drink. Yes, I pay for shit when I go out with girls. Fuck you, I don’t care.These are clearly things that FaggotBoyfriend and his girl came to a conclusion on and relayed to NorthFace while I was busy drinking and laughing at people play Dance Dance Revolution. At this point, Art Huxtable no longer cares about the situation at hand, says whatever, and has to drive home 30 minutes like a fucking chump, slow as fuck too so as not to get arrested. I throw the doggy bag with her leftover burger she left in my car at a tree and chug the leftover water in her (mine) North Face protein shaker. 

No before bed sex. No morning sex. No addition to FWB rotation. I’m never fucking meeting a girl’s friends again.

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