Adventures of Bunny

Whatever happened to quality dick? Part 1


This shenanigan is a girl’s night out story. I know how y’all love those, lol. My craziness is for all of you my beloved readers. Okay well maybe not all for you, a little for me too. Gotta live life my peeps! Go out there and make some crazy memories/stories. Trust me when I tell you it’s fun! 

One of my girlfriends hadn’t been out for a while. So we decided that we all needed to go out and have a little fun. We hit a couple of bars, including our regular spots. It was a good night, we were living it up! Woot, woot! 

This particular evening the girls convinced me to wear leather leggings, a fuschia blouse, and leopard print heels. I was always of the opinion that your ass needs to be covered in leggings. But the girls informed me nope, no need to completely cover my ass. The leather leggings are covering it so it’ll be fine. Plus one of my friends made a valid point, free drinks don’t happen on their own. 

Oh, and of course the heels were brand spanking new, right out of the box.

To all my male readers: Brand new heels are awesome! But are a bit of a BITCH to wear at first because they need to be broken in. Each woman gets to know the ins and outs of her heels after the first wear.

New heels on cobblestones, with alcohol mixed in… I’ll admit not my best decision. But I looked DAMN good! 

Beauty knows NO PAIN!

Have you ever run into a fling? A fling that you were attached to, because it lasted on and off for three years. Also this fling’s dick was… Pause for appreciation (yes, the pause is necessary). His dick was QUALITY DICK! Like I still miss that dick. Okay, I’m sorry back to my point. This fling with the great dick.  I was hoping to NEVER run into again and I’m not one of those people who is graceful when running into an ex, fling, friends with benefits, or whatever you’d like to call the men you’ve previously slept with. I hope that I never run into these individuals again because it’s always awkward.

I HATE awkward.

The girls and I were walking to our favorite jazz bar. We needed martinis. We were all walking, talking, and drinking. I was holding onto one of the girls arms, because my feet were killing me. The two of us were leading the pack, with the rest of the girls behind us. I glanced to the corner and saw Pilot, aka the fling (refer to Get your streak on for more details). 

Inner monologue moment: OH FUCK. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! Fight or flight? What no I can’t fight him, I’ll lose. Not to mention no need to fight him, and I could go to jail. Orange will NEVER be my color. No need for such dramatic measures, he hasn’t even seen me. I can walk by him with my girls and he won’t even know I’m there. OH FUCK, he just looked up and smiled. 

So, flight it is!

My girlfriend who’s arm I’m holding onto to keep me steady has NO IDEA who the fling is. But I’m in flight mode now, and I have no choice but to drag her with me for survival. I can’t run in these heels alone after all, without falling flat on my face and truly embarrassing for myself.

I grip her arm tight, then proceed to start to run dragging her with me. I drag her down the stairs, yep DOWN stairs. She’s got this what the hell is going on look on her face. While she’s trying to keep up with me because I’m holding on to her arm for dear life as we are going down the stairs. She’s saying, “Ow, ow, ow! What is going on?” She’s saying OW because I’m holding onto her arm so tight while dragging that I’ve bruised it. Whooops! 

Desperate times, desperate measures. We get down to the bottom of the stairs, fling’s friend opened the door for us. We brush by him, say thanks while running, and I drag her over to the bar where we catch our collective breaths. 

She turns looks at me and says, “I don’t know what just happened. But Lucy you’ve got a lot of splainin to do. Start talking. While you’re talking, talk to your bartender and order me a damn drink. I’m going to need one I think.”

Quote: “It’s going to be one of those days. The voices in my head are fighting. My imaginary friend is running with scissors, and at one point one of my personalities wandered off. OH FUCK.”

Part two coming soon…

©southerngabunny 

37 thoughts on “Whatever happened to quality dick? Part 1

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