Please refer to previous post if you haven’t already for the beginning of this adventure.
I grab my brand new bike. It’s so sparkly and new. It was meant to be mine.
So picture the following; A woman in a dress and heels, a little tipsy I won’t deny it, rolling a bike down a sidewalk and yelling out THIS BABY IS MINE! That is the sight my girlfriend sees from the door she’s working.
The look on her face, it’s priceless. A combination of: how drunk is she, I can’t take you anywhere, is that bike really hers, please tell me she didn’t steal it, wait why does she have a bike, what am I supposed to do with her and a bike.
Yep, I always keep my friends guessing. Can’t be boring after all. Where’s the fun in that?
She collects my bike and stores it for me. Then puts me at the bar, and tells me to order a non alcoholic drink and goes back to the door.
I make friends with the two bartenders. They ask how I know my girlfriend. I tell them. (Please refer to lovely) Then I yell out I WON A BIKE! I bought a shitload of raffle tickets to do it. But I WON! They both look at me. I think they think I’m making it up. That’s when I pull out my phone, proof. I’ve got a pic of me and my new bike. I posted it to Facebook too.
Because come on, I WON A FUCKING BIKE!!!!!
Can I ride a bike? Oh fuck. I just realized in that moment I really can’t. Wait, training wheels. Problem solved. That’s when I decided I needed another drink. Because look at me problem solving. I obviously can’t be drunk. I don’t know what everyone is talking about.
I have an issue with the first two drinks I receive. I’m a picky drinker. My bartenders all know this. But these are brand new bartenders for me. So I need to educate them. It’s hard work. But someone has to do it. Drink number three was a winner.
They are closing up for the night. My girlfriend reappears. She sees my drink. She’s so happy that I’m drinking a non alcoholic beverage. I look down and away from her. I figure it’s best to say nothing. She then gets mad at the bartenders. Because she now realizes I’m not doing as she requested. Whoops.
My girlfriend asks me to count out the number of drinks I had consumed. I started to count… Then I ask do you want bottles or cups? She looks at me and says, “Oh fuck.” Turns to the bartender and says she’ll have a water, now please.
They close up the bar. My girlfriend and I are walking out with both of the bartenders towards their vehicles. On the way there I’m having sexual/flirty conversation with one of the bartenders and he’s giving as good as he’s getting. It’s fun time for kitten!
The one who made me the good drink is in his car. He drives up to say goodbye. He rolls down his window. I saunter over. I lean into the window, pull up his shirt and pinched his nipples. He said oh my, don’t tell my wife. He laughed and drove away.
I looked over to check on my girlfriend. Her body language is not giving off happy vibes. She is not getting enough attention. Then she starts telling the bartender who’s left one of my not so flattering stories.
While she is telling the story, she’s snapping her fingers and telling me to get into her car and pointing. I’m not taking this well. Am I a fucking dog? Don’t snap your god damn fingers and tell me to come.
Drunk Bunny is in full effect now. Watch out! My girlfriend and I have a “little” argument in the middle of the parking lot. I tell her where she can put it. She replies in kind. The entire time the bartender is watching us.
He offers to walk me to my car.
She looks at the the both of us. Then she says, “You better not dare. GET IN THE DAMN CAR!”
Inner Monologue Moment: A dare! Yay! I do love a challenge.
I tell him why thank you. I’d love an escort to my car. He walks me to my car. My girlfriend is yelling behind us. He is a complete gentleman. He takes me directly to my vehicle and even throws in three really great hugs to boot. They were fantastic hugs.
I get into my car. I then receive a phone call.
Can you guess who it’s from? My girlfriend. I reply, “Hello sweet pea, how are you?” Her reply, “Bitch, where the fuck are you? You can not drive.”
After safely storing my brand new bike in my car. I sauntered back over to my sweet pea (aka girlfriends) car. She drove my drunk Bunny ass to her house. She feed me, clothed me, brushed my teeth and took off my makeup. Then tucked me into bed.
I know what you’re all thinking… Yes I’m a lucky Bunny.
Saying: Your crazy is showing, tuck that shit back in.