Car Tag

I went to DC last night with a few friends that I box with on occasion.

We decided to hit up a gay bar called Town because it was Twink Night and Narcisse, a 6’4″ black dude, is hella gay. It was one of those clubs where you feel like you might go blind from the flashing lights, and anyone with epilepsy would have his/her final drink and die in that place.

Everyone looked very well-put together. Since it was Twink Night, there were very few bears, only pixie-like, cute men. On the second floor were jacked, underwear/thong-wearing go-go dancers that could probably make a straight man question his sexuality. I know I wished I was a gay man~

The night was pretty run-of-the-mill. Lots of dancing and even more drinking. The men at that club were very aggressive and fond of kissing random people. While a few were busy playing tonsil hockey, I swooped in and had swigs of their drinks. No one noticed and I quickly became inebriated. My hips became loose and I danced with everyone, including the lipstick lesbians who twerked so ferociously around my waist that I was bounced around the dance floor from powerful hip-thrusts.

Of the five of us, only one is gay. Corbin, his girlfriend Lorena, Derek, and I spent a good deal of the night explaining that we were straight when very forward people started to grind on us, but it was all in good fun. Our dance partners just backed off a bit, but still gyrated on the floor until 0300.

By the time we left the club, I was FUCKING hammered. Alcohol angels swirled around my head… or maybe it was the excessive flashing lights that fucked with my vision. Regardless, drunk Jess knew it was time to put food down the hatch to help with the inebriation level. My buddies wanted to eat McDonald’s; I saw a Subway across the street and decided I wanted some chicken breasts on some flatbread.

I made my way across the street and purchased my food. I think I did a pretty good job of acting sober to the Indian cashier. After buying my food, I tried to cross the street back to the McDonald’s where my friends were waiting. And then I got hit by a car.

The jolt knocked me to the ground and I dropped my sammich. I stood up and immediately felt a surge of pain in my shin causing me to do a stupid crow hop in the middle of the street. I didn’t fucking care. I was drunk and invincible. I guess the people in the car were either drunk or high because they peeled out without checking to see if I was all right. Again, I didn’t fucking care. I just wanted to eat, so I picked up my sandwich and walked back to the where all of my friends were squished together in Derek’s beater.

I told Derek what happened after he saw me rubbing my leg to get the achy feeling out. He took my bag from Subway, filled it with ice, propped it up on a chair, and told me to hold the bag there so it wouldn’t swell so much. What a nice guy. Too bad I’m too drunk to voice my opinions at this time.

Anyhow, we drove around DC for a bit and finally got back to Baltimore around 0600. I had work today at 0900. It’s a good thing I work at a coffee shop and have access to unlimited amounts of caffeine.

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