or how I was told "it's ok, my mouth is dirty too"
My dad reads what I write here, so I've been contemplating writing about this, but I figure this story is just too good to pass up. Sorry dad.
Hipsters in texas fucking love their Pixie cuts. It's cool, androgyny is a thing here; think bean poles, dress wearing, huge doe eyed, vegan and incredibly lean.
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I'm at a bar with a couple of my friends, when a very drunk, very awkward plaid shirt wearing man approaches us.. I immediately realize he's harmless (and uncoordinated) and upon telling me he's from Portland, he strikes up incredibly inebriated conversation. I drop witty bombs, the fuse unlit and wasted on him as he continues to make boring small talk. I even jokingly tell him I have a kid. (I don't).
This continues for awhile, in vain hopes, maybe, he will get my sass. Wrong. I need to get outta of this conversation asap.
As I am leaving, he reaches out to shake my hand. His fingers are limp and don't have a strong grip. Then he drops a bomb. He reaches to put MY HAND towards his mouth to kiss.
Not thinking, I say, "Oh... sorry my hand is really dirty, it's humid," and untangle his drunken fingers from mine.
His response, "It's ok, my mouth is really dirty too." and he points to his lips.
Wrong thing to say buddy.
I turn around and walk the other way, weaving my way in and out of the Pixie cuts and sea of plaid.
This man takes the award for most awkward one liner said to me thus far in Texas.
"it's ok, my mouth is really dirty too"
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1 comment:
Hahahaha!
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