The Pretty One is a bro of mine.
No seriously he quite literally is a frat guy friend from college.
I don’t hook up with my guy friends.
In fact if I classify you as my friend it’s because I FULLY BELIEVE to the extent of my understanding that you DO NOT HAVE a penis.
It’s just a non-entity.
(The peen, not you)
So when The Pretty One messages me on Facebook with, “Guess who’s in LA again!”…I think nothing more than WOOOO!! PARTY TIME!
We knew each other in college…barely.
I MIGHT’ve messed around with his best friend…barely.
I at least went streaking in front of him…entirely.
(In front of the best friend that is)
But that’s it!
He’s still living in Jersey but in LA all the time AND we’ve been outa school for forever.
He hits me up every time he’s out here…
And we always miss each other.
Not tonight though!
I text him:
Heyyyy meet me at Rusty Mullet on Las Palmas and Hollywood
I get off at 10 I’ll walk over as soon as I’m done!!
He says k see ya there!
I wonder if I should dress up…throw on something slutty, ya know?
He IS a dude still and I always aim to visually please the penis-posessing species.
At 10, I check myself in the mirror and think, “Naaaaaaa…!” as I smooth out my one-piece white jump suit and throw on a pair of heels.
Tonight I’m a bro…and bros don’t show their boobs and butts to other bros.
I’m pretty sure that’s written somewhere.
Walking into Rusty Mullet, I take a seat at the nearly empty bar to order myself a Vodka Gimlet…when I remember that I usually only drink for Business, Birthdays, and Breakups…
Fuck…looks like I’m adding “Bros” to the list.
I get my drink when the guy to my right turns slightly to his left and asks me, “So ya come here often?”
I still can’t believe I get this question.
“Where do you live?”
“What do you like to do for fun?”
I snicker, shake my head and get a little smart with my few sips of my drink, “What do I do for fun…let’s be real man…you don’t care.”
“I CARE!” he insists.
I laugh and lighten up a bit…”I hang out at this lovely establishment to talk to fine gentlemen like yourself…THAT’S what I do for fun” hoping to ease some of the tension with some slight sarcasm and a wink.
WHAT?! HE MIGHT MURDER ME!
He must see this as my agreeing to his peen in my vageen because he follows with,
“So ya wanna fuck?”
My mouth drops.
DID THIS DUDE JUST SERIOUSLY SAY THIS TO ME?!
“No. No I do not want to fuck” is all I can muster as I stare him dead in his eyes while shaking my head, sipping my drink harder with haste.
He shrugs, “Ya never know unless ya ask, right?”
I shrug back.
The man has a point.
I whip out my phone to text The Pretty One: Omg save me hurry…
I put my phone away and guy next to me asks, “You texting your boyfriend?”
I snicker again, “No…he’s not my boyfriend..he’s just a friend.”
He snickers back, “Well you’re totally fucking tonight.”
I shoot him a look…who the hell says that?!
“No we’re not! We haven’t seen each other since college…we’re just catching up!” I insist.
“Pfft…right…you’re totally fucking.”
I think to myself, “Of COURSE this is happening to me!” and excuse myself to the bathroom to instead wait by the door for The Pretty One when I see him walking up.
I can’t tell you how excited I get to see Jersey people in LA…
It’s like…seeing the ice cream man when it’s still below 70 degrees out…
Like AAAAAAAHHHH omgaaaah! I can’t believe you’re HEERRE!!! IT’S PARTY TIME!!!!!!!!
He walks in and we both smile wide while screaming, “AAAHHHH!!!!!!” making no apologies for our loud Jersey gestures and jumping up and down in an embraced excitement.
Still as pretty as ever with his short curly hair and long eyelashes and still holding my waist, The Pretty One asks, “OK what’s going on…we staying here or are we bouncing?”
Drink still in hand, I demand we stay til I at least finish.
He one-ups me and demands we stay til we’ve at least had SHOTS.
I breathe deep.