123Valerie Strikes Again

Unprecedented Self-Indulgence.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Metro Adventure #3276: Lulla Kai and Goodnight

On the Metro ride home, it became very apparent I might have had too much to drink at Sean P.K.'s party on Saturday night. A few items that raised my suspicions:

1. I couldn't understand why my Safeway savings card wouldn't let me pass through the Metro turnstile. A Metro attendant pointed out that, while it would garner me a buy-one-get-one-free deal on Hamburger Helper, the D.C. Metro Transit system did not offer similar discounts from Capitol Hill South to Shady Grove.

2. My fellow Metro riders took my stumbling and whiskey perfume as a hint that I might throw up during some point of our trip, and thus gave me my own bench, despite a full crowd. No puking, I'm glad to say.

3. I gave my phone number to a German guy named Kai, who called me at 5 a.m. and left a gibberishy message. Something like: "Val, eees Kai. I met you on tha Metro. You vere so cuuuute. Like a leetle bunny. I hope you have sveet dreams."

4. I did have sweet dreams. On the Metro. Specifically from Dupont Circle all the way home. Classy.

We had a good time at Sean P.K.'s, we did. The signs of my inebriation were quite clear way before I stepped on the Metro, though. I was too drunk to play guitar, Scotty's rants started to sound reasonable, and Sean P.K. walked in on me whilst I was going to bathroom, and I didn't even flinch. Just said, "Hey, S.P.K. What's up?" as my pants lay around my ankles.

"Are you pooping?"

Ever the demure one, I said, "Maybe. Megan Jane and I did have Mexican for dinner."

There's something about being with friends. Especially friends like Kimberlicious, who likes whiskey as much as I do and encourages me to hit on unsuspecting girls named Amelia. All that, and she's Jewish, too. Busta is one lucky guy.

I spent the better part of the day drying out. Cohen and I went to see For Your Consideration. It was quite good. Cohen liked it so much that he got a stiffy during the movie. "Feel that," he said.

With butter-soaked popcorn hands, I did. And hope was renewed. He declined my offer to move to the floor and make him a man, though.

"No. It's sticky."

I'm not so sure a 26-year-old virgin should be so picky, but whatever. He's a good kid. We'll see what happens. And, if it doesn't work out, there's always Kai, whose assessment of me as a "bunny" was spot on when it comes to sex, too.

In the Comments section, tell me the furthest you've ever gone in a movie theater. The winner gets a box of Hamburger Helper. Actually, two, thanks to the sweet buy-one-get-one-free deal at Safeway.


  • At 12:08 AM , Blogger Flat Coke and Flies said...

    This guy is worrying me. Virgin that has a BJ offered in a dark theater? Hmmm.....does this guy wear boxers or briefs?

    I love poopy stories!!

    You are right....sexy and cute voice. You are just the bomb-diggity!!!

  • At 8:20 AM , Blogger mist1 said...

    Didn't you leave buttery stains on his pants. Anyone eating buttered popcorn is blocked from touching me in a movie theater. I take my clothing seriously. I prefer stain-free.

    Also, I'm not saying where my mouth has been in a movie theater.

  • At 9:33 AM , Anonymous Megan Jane said...

    You forgot to mention another sign of your drukenness...the fact that you carried your whiskey drink from SPK's to the metro station! And remember how Scott, J and I all stood on the street and watched you walk to the escalator? Ha! Like you wouldn't make it or something! Good times. SPK did throw up. It was those two shots at 3 AM, he says.

  • At 10:31 AM , Blogger 123Valerie said...

    I'm a bit worried, too, FC&F. Just a bit. I'm not a very patient person. He likes boxer-briefs.

    In fact, the buttery stains soaked through to his boxer-briefs. Okay, no they didn't. Mist, honey, I wiped my hands on my jeans first, because I am considerate. At least i don't have to worry about jizz stains on my blue dress with him.

    Oh, MJ. I DID forget that. Because what I really needed at 3 a.m. was more whiskey on a lurching Metro car. Poor SPK. It's always the shots.

  • At 1:15 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

    So no progress on popping the proverbial cherry hey?
    Really, the butter would have made excellent lube for a hand job at least....seriously?!!?!?! He's gotta be gay...or at least thinking about being gay.

  • At 3:05 PM , Blogger 123Valerie said...

    I know, AW, I know. He might be.

    Exhibit 1: He's a very nice guy.

    Exhibit 2: He likes to hold hands in public.

    Exhibit 3: Well, the whole sex thing.

    Exhibit 4: He likes to have anal sex with men.

    Alright, I'm just kidding. He doesn't like to hold hands.

    No. Seriously, though, I really don't think that he his--just genuinely respectful and shy and unsure and timid and all of that stuff. We'll see. It's OKAY if he's gay. I love gay men, but it's probably not in my best interest to keep trying to bed a gay man.


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