Monday, June 18, 2007

The Pedophile

When I got to the bar on Friday there were an unusual number of people there. Since it has been nice out lately and there are outdoor activities going on an “unusual number of people” would be all of nine. Those of you not familiar with the bar might be going, “What? Nine people? That’s nothing.” And you’d be right. Any hole in the wall bar in Milwaukee would have at least nine people in at 7:00 on a Friday. I’m not saying that the bar I go to is a dive or anything; it’s just been slowing down lately. The only problem with Friday night was that all nine people were actually sitting at the bar and no one was sitting at any of the tables. The only problem with nine people sitting at the bar is that there are only eleven bar stools. So I was forced to sit on the far end by the grill and the door to the restaurant. I really didn’t have that much of a problem with it because I’m not that type of guy. It actually turned out pretty well as I was out of the way of the freezing cold air that was blowing over my head and I was sitting next to the Baseball Encyclopedia (seriously, the guy knows everything). The Renter came in later and managed to squeeze her fat ass in between B.E. and me.

When I’m sitting at the bar I’m either watching TV, glancing outside, or checking out the restaurant to see who’s over there. About the time the Brewer’s were in the seventh inning I noticed two pretty hot women walking in the restaurant door. Turns out they were there for a birthday party that was being held in the hall downstairs. After a little while the one came in and got a pitcher of beer. Since I was sitting right next to the door she leaned over and asked me if the Brewer’s were playing in “real time.” (?) I told her the game was indeed live (because nine people want to sit at a bar and watch yesterday’s game). Then she asked where they were playing and I told her Minnesota to which she replied, “Oh, I don’t care about it then.” Again, (?)? She ended up telling me that she was there for her sister’s 16th birthday party (yeah, that was the other “pretty hot” woman who walked in, you’d think I’d be able to tell the difference between 28 and 16). When the Renter heard this she had to yell loud enough for the whole bar to hear that I was “into” young girls and sometimes even young boys. The woman looked at me like I had just killed her dog and took her beer back down to the party.

When you’re sitting at a bar with nine people in it you tend to notice objects in motion. When there isn’t much going on anything that moves catches your eye. So there I was, sitting by the door, snapping my head 90 degrees to the right whenever someone walked in the restaurant door and the someone who walked in the door was inevitably a 16 year-old girl. Every time I would cringe when I realized I was checking out a 16 year-old girl. And yet every time someone walked in the door my head would snap over. It was like I couldn’t even control it, an involuntary reflex. And it happened a lot, enough to get a new nickname from the Renter.

On Saturday I was leaving the grocery store and noticed there was one of those charitable car washes going on across the street. There were some girls in tight shirts and short shorts standing on the street holding up some kind of sign. So I went out of my way and exited the parking lot right across the street from where they were standing. Pulling up to the stop sign I secretly wished that there would be a ton of traffic and I’d have to sit there and wait for a while as I checked out the girls waving at passerbies. But no, there was no traffic and I drove out on to the street, half watching where I was going and half watching the girls (actually just their boobs). And then I read their sign. Nathan Hale Prom Squad. When I was in high school I went to exactly one school dance. I’m not sure what the dance schedule is, but I think that prom is in the spring. That and the fact that all the schools are out for the summer led me to believe that these girls were going to be seniors this coming fall. The summer going into my senior year, I was 17. Once again I felt a little sick that I was checking out 17 year-old girls.

So I diverted my eyes to the girls who were actually doing the car washes hoping to find some bikini and/or possible thong action (and yes I realize that those girls were probably 17 also). I looked closely and squinted my eyes and guess what I saw? Uggers!!! They had the cute girls with ample chests jumping up and down on the street while they put the fatties to work washing the cars. Thoroughly disappointed I drove on even though my Jeep could have used a wash and I could have used a blow job.



(On a side note, remember back when they had the big HIV/AIDS crisis in the porn industry? Does it really help that much to have a condom on for sex but not for blow jobs and money shots? I’m stumped.)

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