Fight Night At The Diner

Last Wednesday, I was out with some friends way later than I initially planned to be. This was mainly due to a little Ethiopian guy who infiltrated our crew by hitting on the most obviously drunken chick rolling with us. Normally, I would have protected my folks from such a scavenger, but I must admit that this fellow amused me. I saw him approach her and make small talk earlier in the night, but she was obviously digging another guy in the bar. You think that one obstacle stopped The Little Ethiopian that Could? Hell no!

This guy literally stood around while she made out with the other man, then waited for the fellow to leave before making his move again. I had to make jokes as we watched right behind them because to me, that seemed pretty pathetic. I said “I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I’d be cool with picking up a chick who just literally got through tonguing-down another man. You kiss her, and you technically just kissed a dude as well! Probably taste his breath still on hers and whatnot. Man-spit getting on your lips from hers. It’s flat-out disgusting!”

I seriously wonder what he could have possibly been saying to her? “See? I’m a gentleman, baby! I waited for your tongue to stop touching that other dude’s before I came over, because I RESPECT YOU! So let’s get you some breakfast, a bottle of Scope, and go back to my place…”

I mean, it’s bad enough to go after the drunkest cute chick you can find when the bar is closing, but to go after a drunk chick immediately after she finished kissing someone else is scavenger sh*t. Like a vulture flying over a wounded animal in the desert. Or more accurately, it’s like seeing someone win money on a slot machine in a casino, and jumping on that same machine the moment that person leaves, hoping that it’s still hot.

After making fun of The Little Ethiopian that Could for about another half-hour, he kissed enough ass to convince folks to take a trip to the Diner in Adams Morgan. In all honesty, it was more like everyone got hungry and gave in to his unrelenting requests for us all(really meaning, just the drunk chick) to go eat with him. Once we arrived at our destination, we ended up sitting near a table with a couple of scraggly dudes and a bunch of mostly attractive women whom, judging from their attire and their overall aura, work in the sex trade.

I can’t claim to always know a stripper in plain clothes, but usually, when I get a hunch, I’m right a good percentage of the time. I don’t have psychic visions like some kind of Slutstradamus, but my Stripper Sense went off something terrible around that table. Then, my hunch was further solidified when I heard a “F*ck that b*tch!” yell from that direction, and the sound of a shoe being thrown across the room.

When I looked back, I saw one of the chicks with really nice breasts(who was essentially wearing a bikini top) lunging and swinging at the girl sitting across from her. The other woman suprisingly remained pretty calm, considering the Kanye Breast chick had just thrown a shoe at her. Everyone else at that table was trying to keep them separated, but the guy who most likely started the drama was trying to argue with Kanye about something. It just made her more mad, and a couple of people started trying to hold her back.

Fellas, you can probably tell where this is going. The most wonderful thing in the world to us guys is unintentional female nudity, so I warned The Little Ethiopian That Could that Kanye Breast was probably about to lose a titty. As soon as I said it, her left breast wriggled it’s way to freedom. I have to give credit where credit is due: That was one righteous titty! A 1st class titty, it had a stately, unspoken dignity to it that betrayed the hoodrat actions of it’s owner. A proper titty, yes indeed!

The end result of this whole fiasco was Kanye Breast got arrested, The Little Eithopian That Could got no ass despite buying the drunk chick’s breakfast, and I didn’t get to bed until 4 A.M. So as you see, nobody really won that evening, other than my retinas. Catching a glimpse of that adrenaline-fueled booby-slip somehow made the night worth it!