just got back from a friend's bachelorette party in Vegas... and although what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, there are a few stories that have to be told, being as they incriminate no one but me...
[narrator's voice] This is one of those stories.
so, the girls and I were dancing at TheBar...
TheBar seems to have quite a few more male patrons than female ones, so, we're surrounded by guys. two of which have been dancing with us for quite some time. one friend is dancing with one of them. the other, who we'll call CuteBoy is dancing with all of us.
then, being one of the few no-ring-on-left-ring-finger ones in the bunch, CuteBoy walks up to me and asks (after hitting on at least one of my married friends and another engaged one):
are you married or engaged?
[CuteBoy turns on the charm]
really? I find it hard to believe, the most beautiful girl in the bar is single.
yeah, that's me, the most beautiful girl in the bar, that's why you're hitting on me after you found out my friends were ring-on-left-ring-finger ones. oh, who cares... when in Vegas, do as the... wait that's not the right city...
[me turning on all my I-drank-way-too-much-at-cheesy-naked-man-show charm]
well, isn't it your lucky night, then.
oh, wow, that sounded a bit on the slutty, scratch that, skanky-ho side
well, then come over here and dance with me.
[me coyly smiling] sure [me stumbling a bit, but CuteBoy appears equally not-sober, and doesn't really seem to notice]
from here it gets a bit more hazy... we dance, CuteBoy has another friend deliver both of us drinks.
we're still dancing, maybe a little random drunken pda that would do a junior high dance proud.
then all of a sudden I'm on the floor... and there is this incredible pain in my knee.
[whistle blows] CLIPPING!
I look around, none of my friends appear to be near, CuteBoy helps me up. I cannot stand on my one leg without the pain cutting sharply through my drunkenness.
I spot two of my friends, hop over to the bar where they're standing... they appear to have seen the whole thing... and the first thing my friend A says is, you should keep dancing with him, he's really cute!
granted, it's A's bachelorette weekend, and she's way more drunk than I am (if that's really possible), but by this point I've realized tears are streaming down my cheeks... apparently, although I cannot fully feel my body, the knee still hurts enough to create tears without my knowledge.
[me... asking bartender for a napkin] ok, but I need to wipe my eyes first.
[me to CuteBoy hopping back onto dance floor] thanks for picking me up.
[CuteBoy grins] sure.
so we continue dancing (well, I'm hopping, he's dancing) and perhaps a little drunken pda-ing until my friends tell me that we're leaving and drag me with them.
we grab some alcohol-absorbing pizza, sit down, and I get to hear my friends' version of what happened in TheBar...
...however, my iif, the observers' side of the story will have to wait until part ii, as my slightly-still-hungover self needs to get some sleep!