Last night Pedro and I did a short set downtown at Leslie Von Snoot’s bar. Leslie called me up, panties all in a knot about some band letting him down and asked if we could fill in.
Filling in is Pedro and I’s specialty (after the ladies, you understand) so we were down there in an instant, like flies on a shit pie.
Fortunately, it was a rockin’ good night, full of good peeps, good beverages and good times but unfortunately it was crammed full to the brim with ladies of supreme quality.
Now I don’t know if it’s just that I’m on day four of a lady-drought – because seriously, all the ladies start to look like Barbarella after a while – or if they really were just grade A. top notch ladybeef, but whoa nellie! There were some fine lookers. It was making The Little Captain cry real tears of sorrow and making me wonder if fifty bucks was really worth giving up this caliber of awesome.
However a bet is a bet and Tony’s too proud to renege on such a thing so I had to make do with flirting heavily and pocketing a few phone numbers. For later. Because that wasn’t in the rules or nothin’. I didn’t touch though. Not a single, soft, voluptuous breast puckered under my fingertips. Of course my pecker hurts like a losing boxer this morning after an enthusiastic session with the Nivea when I got home and thought about all those fine female specimens.
It was hard though. It reminded me of back when I was dating this chick, Teresa who was insanely jealous. Like Lorena Bobbit jealous. If I so much as suggested a lady polish my organ, old Teresa had a cow and turned into Freddy Krueger.
This one night I was heading to the men’s room after a set and this crazy lady cornered me out of nowhere. Quite a fine lady too, big, child bearing hips and that four boob effect that the ladies get when their undergarments don’t fit right. She wanted a piece of me for sure. She had me against the wall in a nano second. She also had more arms than that Goddess chick the Hindus dig. They were in my hair, in my pants, in my shirt. It was like being inside a washing machine full of hands. I mean what could I do, right? Plus that chick was just plain dirty in a good way. And a tad scary. So scary I didn’t try to stop her! It was for my safety, y’all.
Still for some reason old Teresa wasn’t thrilled when she ran out to look for me and found me, back against the wall with some big, doughy whirlwind of a woman rubbing the Captain with her nipples. I mean the chick was crazy, what could I do?
Anyway, what was I talking about again? Yeah, resisting the ladies. It ain’t easy, it’s all I’m saying.