Rule #7 - Gone

For those of you sports fans, I found this article by Randy Hill about hating the Florida Gators. I guess I'm not the only one.





I don’t know if I’ve ever told this story before, but this was part of the reason why Rule #7 went up on the billboard at the corner bar.

Last spring (I’m pretty sure) I went up to the corner bar on a typical Friday. Like usual I plopped my ass down in a stool at the bar. This night I was next to the entrance door in what is now lawyer girl’s favorite spot. Around 11:00 this rather hot woman walked in the bar and sat across the bartender’s exit from me. She was wearing some fashionable sunglasses and a sport coat. Upon further inspection with my peripheral vision, she was only wearing a bra underneath the sport coat. Bingo, she had my attention! I started talking with her; apparently she had been out with a guy at a local strip club. He had pissed her off in one way or another and she left him there, taking a cab to my corner bar. I bought her a drink or two and pulled out the usual bag of tricks. Of course I had to throw in there that I lived a block away just in case she needed a place to stay. Unfortunately, the usual bag of tricks wasn’t working this night and she asked the bartender to tell me to stop talking to her. Not wanting to ruffle anyone’s feathers I complied and left her alone. Thirty minutes passed. I was talking to the guy next to me and mid-sentence I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Alright, I’m ready. Let’s go.” Without giving me a chance to pay my tab she grabbed my arm and dragged me out the door. I had to help her a little bit as we walked down the sidewalk to my house. Once we got inside I showed her the bedroom and she promptly undressed. I told her I had to use the bathroom to brush my teeth and take out my contacts. I returned two minutes later only to find her passed out in my bed. Being the horny little devil that I am, I tried to wake her up with a couple gently pokes here and there but it didn’t work, she was out.

I woke up in the morning a little surprised to find a woman in my bed (doesn’t happen that often). She began to stir and we chatted for a bit about nothing specific. She asked if we anything had happened before going to bed and I told her no, that she had passed out shortly after hitting the pillow. Then she looked at me and delivered the greatest line I have ever heard. “You know, you were nice enough to let me sleep in your bed and didn’t try anything. We can have sex if you’d like to.” If I’d like to? Yeah, two minutes later I had the condom on and we were doing it (sex, intercourse, in case you weren’t following me). I’m not going to brag or anything but supposedly she O’d three times during our early morning romp (I’m not bragging, really).

And then things went downhill. After we had finished we got dressed. She asked if I’d make her some breakfast. Unless she wanted beer for breakfast I had nothing for her. She asked if I’d give her a ride home and of course I did. On the way there she asked me what I thought of her when she first walked in the door. “Honestly? The first thing I thought was ‘How much does she charge.’” I have since learned that that is not an appropriate response to any question a woman might ask you. I tried explaining it that not too many people dress like that in Milwaukee. Maybe in California, but we’re talking Midwest here. I think I did an ok job of that as she gave me her phone number once we got to her house (on the back of a self portrait of her, little weird?). She asked me to drop her off at George Webb’s and me, fucking up yet once again, dropped her off and didn’t even join her for breakfast.

The next day the bartender came up to me. “How the hell do you rate? One minute she doesn’t want to talk to you and the next minute she’s dragging you home! What the fuck?” All I could do was shrug my shoulders and give him a sly smile. I never told him all the details, too embarrassing.

Even though the sex was pretty damn good, I have never called her. I still have the picture with her phone number on it, but I’ve never called. A year later, is it too late? Not that I’m desperate or anything…

How’s this for a sign: they have taken the rules of the bar down and put up a list of drink prices instead. With the way shit is going now I’d never be able to convince someone that they used to have a rule on the board, “Don’t go home with anyone named B to the…” My claim to fame (not fortune) is gone.