Corporate Peon: Welcome Home - The Good, the Bad, & the Very, Very Ugly

Sunday, April 10, 2005

Welcome Home - The Good, the Bad, & the Very, Very Ugly

During my 6-hr drive up here today, I gave some thought as to how to write about this weekend. Topically? Person-by-person? I think, however, it will be easiest to write it chronologically and fill in the blanks as they happened.

(Background: I drove to see J, a friend from my youth, in my old hometown this weekend. This was the first time I had seen J or the town in 13yrs)

So, here goes:

I got to J's place around 6pm and found his friend, Tree, sitting on the deck. The boys were drinking and I joined right in. Almost immediately, the talk turned sexual and I learned that J - who's 29 - is sleeping with a 21yr old we'll call Tonia. J doesn't particularly like Tonia, but he won't get rid of her until/unless he has a backup in place. Tonia is apparently bad in bed - as Tree could, and did, also testify to - but has big tits.

That was my first clue that it was going to be a long friggin weekend.

The three of us bantered for a bit; they're both funny guys, and we gave each other shit like we had always hung out together.

** Cut to the bar, or the 'ugly' part of this series **

The bar we went to is a college bar in a very very very BIG university town. Which meant it was a meat market.

There were girls there, the likes of which I could not believe. HOT. Hotter than hot. So much eye candy that my retinas got cavities. And the clothes they wore - oh. my. god. Tiny tops. BOOBY shirts. Low cut pants. Teeny tiny skirts. Kitten heels.

So many of the girls still had that 'baby fat' look to them, but the majority were entirely edible. J drooled (okay, I did a little too), and he & I people watched and kibbitzed and drank. That part was fun.

However, it was also depressing - how do average girls in that town get a guy? There was such obvious jockeying for position next to the pretty girls among the boys.

Now, don't get me wrong - I didn't want any of those guys - but apparently, if you're not a size 8 or smaller, you're SOL. The competition was amazingly fierce, and I felt like the ugliest wallflower possible. It was a fascinating scene for a couple hours, but it was also a bit demoralizing.

** Cut to the next bar **

We left the busy bar and went to a very low-key place. That's where the trouble started.

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