After meandering around Hollywood on a Wednesday night, searching aimlessly for an awesome FREE time, my brother, sister, and I finally settled on Angels and Kings around 12:30 AM, a bar I’d always thought was super gothic metal…a place I always thought my brother would like. My family was in town last week so the usual go-up-to-any-bouncer-in-super-skanky-outfit-and-bat-my-fake-eyelashes-while-I-ask-how-to-get-in-for-free-then-proceed-to-cut-the-line-and-get-in-for-free bit wasn’t gonna cut it. Come to think of it, in my black tube top and blue skinny jeans, that night was probably the most clothed I’d been on Hollywood Boulevard at night…EVER.
Upon walking in, my suspicions about the bar were confirmed: The only men in there were dressed in all black, had mohawks, piercings out their asses (figuratively speaking, although I wouldn’t be surprised if this could be also be proven literally), and silver metal spiky jewelry. Ahh. Hmm. In situations like these, I always revert to my golden rule: Find the hottest one. With the decision made in my head (and with about two shots of Patron in my body), I found Golden Boy, my man for the night. An obvious oddity in this crowd of collective odd-balls, he and his two friends were donning white button-ups, normal white-guy haircuts, and looked as knowingly out of place as my brother, sister, and me. Appreciating how cute he actually was, aside from being the hottest guy in there
Me: *to my sister, pointing to Golden Boy* See that guy? Yeah he’s the hottest one in here…he’s mine.
My sister: Ooooh…he’s really cute. But why do you have to be such a skank?
Me: I don’t HAVE to be…I just TEND to be…ugh.
My sister: *rolling her eyes* Ugh…you are a super skank.
While I didn’t intend on meeting or hooking up with anyone considering my parents were sleeping in my bedroom at home and I’d be sleeping in my living room with my brother and sister, I decided that, if anything, I could probably only settle for a great make-out session at best. Ugh. I fucking LOVE making out with strangers. Maybe my sister’s right…maybe I am a super skank……. Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
As we listened to the band, ironically and fittingly named The Sex Havers, I inched my way closer to Golden Boy, watching him rhythmically two-step to the beat and sing along to all the songs. I had to give it to him, he really was fucking adorable. Standing at a staunch 6’1, with his spiky brown hair and his anomaly of a pretty-boy presence among the punk rockers and hipsters, he shamelessly belted out every word to all the 90’s cover songs pumping throughout the teeny bar, pointing at the band and throwing his arms in the air, completely unapologetic of how seduced he was by each and every song. Seeing a guy sing all the lyrics to a song he’s really into can always make my heart melt…and seeing him do so to The Sex Havers was definitely doing just that.
As I took my place next to him, I made a point to subtly rub my crotch against his while pretending to not have space to rage as hard as I could, offering up a giggle, blush, and mouth-out of “I’m sorry!” Not skipping a beat and fully accepting my seemingly clumsy pelvic pitfalls against him, Golden Boy continued to two-step along as he grabbed my hand in his to twirl me around and pull me in closer to him, the both of us pressing against one of another closing the space between us regardless of all the empty space around us. “WOOO HOOO YEAH BITCHES!!!!!!!!!!” I screamed back at my brother and sister, now sticking out my tongue and dry-humping the shit out of Golden boy from behind to show my them that VICTORY WAS MINE YET AGAIN MWAHAHAHAHHAA! (My brother and sister are well aware of how skanky I am, however, they have never had to witness any proof of the latter…I was guaranteed to show them.)
Knowing damn well I wasn’t gonna fuck this guy, I decided to cut right to the chase and get down to business; we were bumping and dry-humping to a band called The Sex Havers…we may as well emulate exactly what we’re listening to, right? Because there was really no discussing the matter, I took matters into my own hands by taking his collar in my hands and ripping down each side of his shirt, his buttons coming undone effortlessly against my grasp. I may as well have been growling, roaring, and foaming at the mouth (oh shit, was I?) because I looked like a hungry rabid zombie prostitute (I probably shouldn’t joke about zombies because they are now PROVEN to be real considering all the shit that’s happening!!! So let me clarify: I was not on bath salts or EATING him…I was simply on Patron with salt and biting AT his bare chest).
Although at this point Golden Boy should’ve cowered in the corner while holding onto his cock and nipples for fear of his life, he fortunately became unrelentingly turned on by my tearing away at his clothes and dignity, as he then proceeded to lift me up into the air and ferociously begin making out with me, while The Sex Havers blasted and belted out a live punk-rock version of “I Would Do Anything For Love” by Meatloaf. I would evidently do anything to have something pressed up against my vagina, as I straddled Golden Boy and continued to violently makeout with him while my brother and sister stood three feet away shaking and hanging their heads in disgust. Ugh…trust me I’m well aware of how I should conduct myself in front of my family, however, I still remain completely unapologetic about how inappropriately I publicly display affection, family or not. I figured I may as well milk it considering I would NOT be getting any boom boom while they were in town (who am I kidding I never get any boom boom when they’re out of town…yeah fuck you).
After having been sexually harassed by the same brown-fedora-wearing, curly haired Australian in both the men’s and women’s bathroom, my brother, sister, and I decided to call it a night (I walked in on the Australian in the women’s bathroom playing with his dick, eventually turning and shaking it at me, demanding that I come over to him so he could tell me a secret, while my brother later on in the men’s bathroom stood at the urinal peeing, the same Australian guy talking over his shoulder, detailing how he would protect my brother and karate chop anyone who came in and tried to fuck with him). I think Golden Boy and I exchanged numbers, although I never did get his name and still cannot find him in my phone. The band was fuckin awesome though. They apparently play at Angels and Kings every week. While I may not have been a sure thing that night, at least they will be every Sunday night.