I immediately translated into Manhunt/Craigslist terms

Thursday was 2 open bars.  The Men Event  was hosting a party at Club H Fitness (yes, a party at the gym), and a new party was opening at Aspen.  For free vodka, my loyalty to the View can wait a week.

Both Loosefur and MicHELLe were texting me at like 5:30 seeing what time I’d get there, but with my job, it's hard to predict when I'm able to slip out a few minutes early.  You can’t entertain yourself for a half hour with free vodka and a room full of men?!  Guess not. 

Walking up 9^th ave from the office, MicHELLe texts me that she’s in the neighborhood on her way too (a block downtown from me).  I waited for her, not out of kindness, but for this opportunity:

“MISS HONEY!  I KNOW YOU HEAR ME CALLING YOU MISS HONEEEEEEYYYYYYY!”  She was a good 3/4ths of a block away.  The random white girl walking next to her looked over like, “Oo, girl!” (Hey Rhonda!)

As soon as we walked in, Loosefur was waiting by the door, but he wasn’t by himself.  He introduced me to this really cute guy in workout gear.  I mean really cute.  Black (or bi-racial) guy, nice body, couldn’t have been 30.  He seemed strangely underdressed for both the weather and the event in his sleeveless T, but then again, it was a gay event.  Turned out he was a singer/songwriter, so we immediately got to blabbering about that on the way to the bar.

“Can you order me a vodka cranberry while you’re up there?”  Can you order it yourself?  

Y’all have to understand: when I’m at a crowded open bar, I usually get 2 drinks at a time for myself so I only have to wait in line half the time.  So no, I won’t order you anything.  But I wanted to be nice because we had just met (okay, who am I fooling… it was because he was hot), so I ordered him a drink.

“Hey, you got a dollar to tip the bartender”

“You know, I don’t have my wallet on me.” 

Now, the first thing that popped into my head was, Well, he does look like he just came from the bench press.  He probably doesn't have pockets.  I responded with an “Oh, okay,” but there must have been some unintentional 'yeah right' in my voice.

Five seconds later, “Okay, let me be real with you: I don’t have any money.”

“Oh, well alright.”

I can’t say my mind didn’t go there.  And yes, I kept talking to him after that (and gladly so)!  We exchanged business cards (and by my business card, I mean a piece of card stock with a crazy logo and my myspace music page on it), and he left rather early.

“Oh wait.  V2 is the vodka with caffeine in it, huh.”  Shit.

I'm pictured above with Hugh, proprietor of The Men Event.  At these events, you get nametags saying what industry you work in.  Morehead, a college admissions officer, got a tag that said "Admn Officer".  Hugh's nametag said "Host", which I immediately translated into Manhunt/Craigslist terms.  After we took that picture, he started taking pictures of guys working out (having us pose as if he were taking pictures of us).  He also took a bunch of pictures of the bartenders' asses.  I wanna be like Hugh when I grow up.

After escaping the clutches of a socially awkward deaf guy (nothing like having to repeat uninteresting small talk), I started talking to this really cute friend of ‘Trish’s that I had met once maybe 6 months previously.  I was eyeing him back then, but he didn’t seem interested beyond my sense of humor.  After about 20 minutes, both he and his cubbish friend wandered off. 

“So, Aspen?”

When we arrived at the party, there was quite a line outside.  I feel like I had somehow lost everyone else and acquired Bottomless Pitt *shrug*.  She was so over it before we got inside, but between the open bar and the promise of bear meat, there was no way I was ditching.  At least until they ran out of vodka.  And of course, Bottomless Pitt wasn’t on the list, but the door person said something about me having a plus one.  Works for me!

The rest of the night I remember in flashes.  I remember being disappointed in the non-overflowing abundance of bears (but it was definitely fur friendly).

 I remember more V2 vokda.

I remember loving Tighty Whitey's venue-appropriate hat. 

I remember Bologna, Dill Pickle, and her boyfriend getting a surprising number of drinks.   

And I remember running into 'Trish's friend at this party, too.  Then I remember making out with ‘Trish’s friend.  I usually try to avoid hooking up with connections that close, but he started it!  

Obviously, he avoids close-connection hookups too because he ditched forthwith.  Did I mention I’m too old to be making out in public if it’s not going to go anywhere?  Yeah.

Did I mention I wasn't the only one putting on a show for the (not so many) bears?  Yeah!

Stay tuned for more stories of more open bars (lots more).  But in the meantime, check out this pre-Pride Bear Cruise story here.

And check out my Music Review of Jazmine Sullivan's Fearless here.

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