beware

I had a good time last night. Perhaps too good of a time. Nah... I went dancing at the local gay friendly bar. Always a good mix there.

As far as the swingers go, for some inexplicable reason only one of the pair can be attractive. There are the dance maniacs that must go on a high carb diet in order to sustain such activity for hours on end. After 15 minutes it's time for a rest and a beer. I'd say about 90% of the lesbians there were under 5' 2'' which puts their heads right at boob level. It's actually a little disconcerting to have a girl seemingly take a nap in your breasts while you're dancing to a techno song.

After a few drinks I unfortunately lost my "do not dance with at all costs" radar. He was sweating a little when we started to dance, but by the time 2 songs ended, it was a deluge. His shirt was matted, his hair turned spiky, and his hand was working like a windshield wiper on his foreheard. Sigh. The side he held against him was soaked. It looked really strange too because only my right breast was wet. There was no trail leading to or from, just bam! Look, my nipple is sweating!

He was also a wolf in gay clothing. Such trickery. Beware when the guy assures you that he is gay. It probably means that he's not. But hey, I was buzzing. So after bumping and grinding and gyrating until I was in danger of drowning, I took my leave. A bit later, boob only damp now, he finds me and asks me for a "hook up." What? Of course, he's bi now. Yeah. Perfect timing. But, no.

Good times.