Tales from the land of a designated driver.

Last night I went out to Lucky 13 (FOR THE FIRST TIME!) with a bunch of friends.

Naturally I pulled my usual antics of introducing myself to guys as THE HAMMER.

"Wait, what?"

"The Hammer."

"Err..."

"Yeah, Hammer, my parents were crazy hippies, what can I say."

The night involved a few shenanigans that I seem to encounter a lot.

Lets go over things I do not like:

1. When dancing with another girl on the dancefloor (NOT GRINDING) such as Heather, we are minding our own business.

SCENE: Heather and I facing each other, she said "Larissa, there's a guy behind you trying to grind on you."

UGHHH.

I move closer to heather, but I look past her shoulder and, what is this?

"Heather, there's a guy behind you trying to grind on YOU!"

Double team!

We move closer, and closer, until our foreheads are sammiched together, but these guys don't take a hint!

SUDDENLY, a hole opens up in the crowd! We make a break for it!

Safe for the time being, despite the fact they followed us later.

In any other situation it would be rude NOT to give a girl a prior warning of "Excuse me madam, but may I rub my crotch against your ass in time to the beat?"

If you and your buddy have deduced that the only way to dance with women is to forcefully corral them between yours and your friend's pelvises, perhaps you need to rework your game.

2. Waiting in line to get my coat from the coat check, when two guys walk into the bar.

They stop near where we are standing, and THUG 1 says to THUG 2 "Hey, lets find some drunk sluts!"

Power to you! I saw quite a few!

Then THUG 1 comes up to me, taps me on the shoulder, and says

"Hey, are you drunk?"

"Not at all."

"Fuck," he says under his breath, and walks away.

Wow. Does that actually work?

Probably.

I yelled after him about being a pig, but twas too late, he was gone.

3. SPEAKING OF DRUNK SLUTS, two girls are dancing on one of the raised platforms on the dancefloor.

This is one of those moments where you think about how the girls should have realized their dresses are NOT in fact dresses, but shirts, and thus, barely cover their asses.

Now, if you plan on standing all night, maybe you can get away with a dress that short.

But grinding on your best friend, WHILE elevated, WHILE crouching down and lifting your legs, non monsieur.

These girls are obviously drunk and I'm getting a good view of their undergarments from my lowly position on the floor.

But the best part about this whole scene, is the old man standing beside them,

severely

and

silently

staring.

And the dance goes on!