Never Pet A Hooker… Pt 1…

18 05 2009

I know it’s been some time since I’ve written something. To my faithful followers I apologize. I’m trying to get back into the whole writing thing after landing a new job.

I currently work the front desk of a gym, and while I’ve got one or two things in my head I’d love to write about, every time I think of the gym and working, it takes my soul away and I have no desire to continue writing. But know this, a blog about the inner workings of a gym is coming.

This is not that blog.

This my friends is a blog of my Booze induced weekend in Seattle for some Red Sox baseball.

It all began in February, when my birthday is. My friend JDub purchased tickets to see the Red Sox only trip to Seattle this year. I have obviously been in a little bit of a funk, so I was looking forward to this trip.

As some of you may know, I joined the twitter revolution (before Oprah) and decided to send text message updates on twitter as the weekend progressed. The only negative to this whole situation, is I don’t have a phone capable of checking @replies and the such. So basically I update with something funny, and don’t get to see any of the responses. If any. Sad.

As JDub and I proceeded to go over the checklist of things we may need or things we may have forgotten, somehow that list included 2 fifths of Jack Daniels. Obviously a necessary item for any Sox weekend. As we left our great city, we hadn’t even been driving 5 minutes, when I took my first pull from a flask filled with Jack.

This was going to be awesome.

We arrived in Seattle in perfect time to head to the Pyramid Brewery to get some much needed food and….. well booze. Pizza and beer arrived at our table as we sat across the street from the amazing Safeco Field. Whilst the beer and pizza arrived, so did a very nice young lady with nice fake boobs and a glittery Red Sox shirt on. I’m not going to lie, and pretend I wasn’t already smitten, cause well… She was wearing a Sox shirt. However, my curiosity was peaked (as was JDubs) to the fact that said girl was wearing a Friends and Family pass around her glittery Red Sox covered chest.

Which got us to thinking….. and by thinking I mean searching the internet on JDubs phone. After a couple minutes of relentless stalkingsearching, we came to this website, and this conclusion……

John and Farrah Lester

John and Farrah Lester

This was Farrah Lester. Wife of one of my favorite up and coming Red Sox players, and wife to JDub’s second favorite cancer survivor, Jon Lester.

The plan in our heads was hatched of how to say hello, talk to her, ultimately, How can we meet your husband. I was even willing to seduce her to meet her husband. I believe it was at this seminal moment in my life, I realized that I should really find someone to marry or at least seriously date. That way all this attention I place on the Red Sox, could be diverted into real life things I can control. However, since the prospect of getting married is far from here, I shall resume my focus on the Red Sox, and hitting on Jon Lester’s smokin hot wife.

We discussed for a good 30 minutes on an “ice breaker” to talk to Mrs. Lester. However nothing came of it, and she left with her Friends and Family pass.

(ps, I had already been drinking pretty heavily at this point, so it may not have been Mrs. Lester. But I’m pretty sure it was. Either way, please check out The Lester Project)

As we watched Lester pitch a pretty decent game, it was Ichiro who saved the day for all Mariner fans. Speaking of Mariner fans, can people help me out here. If you go to a baseball game, anywhere across this great nation of ours, can you please take a poll of how many lesbians you see at the game. (hot or not, a lesbian is a lesbian.) It just so happens that for some reason the Seattle Mariners fan base consists heavily of mullet wearing, visor toting lesbians. I wish I was half way kidding about this. Friday nights game had us sitting next to a very nice couple, one sporting the short man cut, and the other sporting the very eloquent salt and pepper mullet to the shoulders.

At one point, after Ichiro’s first home run, Man Cut decided to start talking shit to me. Why she didn’t choose JDub who was siting in the seat next to her is beyond me. Maybe she thought JDub might think she was hitting on her… I don’t know. However she leaned over, clapping her hands Church Clap style and proceeded to shout, “He can hit em anytime he wants. ANYTIME HE WANTS.”

Now, we were winning at this point, so I’m ok with a little shit talk here and there. I feel it’s supposed to be there, and he did just hit a home run. However…. The second home run that gave them the lead, and the second ANY TIME HE WANTS had me fuming.

Look tiny lesbian with a nice fade….. Like you, I also believe in rights for everyone, which means treating women equally, which also means, you lean over one more time and come inside my circle, and sure as hell there will be shit storm a coming! I know for 100% fact I can take you… No doubt in my mind. On the other hand, I’m going to refrain from whooping some ass at the ballpark, because I am legitimately scared of Salt N’ Pepper Mullet to your right. I feel as if I’d get one good shot in and SnP would want to get to me! So be happy you’re Mullet sporting partner has got your back cause you almost got an equal rights beat down courtesy of me! (PS, I’m a lot tougher when I drink. Or at least my mouth is.)

Anyway, there were no fisticuffs with the Lesbians, however the Sox did lose, and so I took it upon myself to celebrate Irish Wake style! I received a text from a good friend and former co-worker in radio who informed me he was indeed doing a club night at one of the clubs near the stadium. We walked a couple blocks and were soon in front of the greatest bar in the entire world. (Gross exaggeration for effect.) We were indeed making our way into Cowgirls Inc. OH HELL YES!
(For those of you who didn’t click the link, Cowgirls Inc. is indeed a real life Coyote Ugly. Where the dancers are hot, and the clientele is not.)

Anyway, My friend Maynard knew one of the bartenders in the joint, so it was awesome in getting drinks. Lets just say there were a couple dollars from being free. Which, as anyone knows, is a good thing to have cheap liquor, however, you tend to buy a bit more booze when it’s really cheap. And seeing as how I was in mourning… it was bring on the Jack and Cokes…A lot of them! I was so focused on drinking that at one point, whilst one young lady was gyrating in booty shorts in front of me, attempting to earn some college tuition, I gently nudged her leg and asked her to move so I could get more booze. (Note, this is probably why I’m single, and an alcoholic.)

sidebar: they’re hiring.

The night carried on as did my drinking. In the midst of my drinking 3 major things occurred.
#1. The SECOND Michael Vick jersey siting in Seattle. THE SECOND!!! And this wasn’t even a Falcons jersey, this was an old school Virgina Tech jersey. What’s with Seattle? I haven’t seen two Michael Vick jerseys in one day for as long as I remember. However, back in the Day one of my buddies used to wear his Vick jersey to the club. He mentioned it being the #1 jersey for scoring chicks. Said he was batting a cool .750 (75%) with the Jersey. So I supposed this dude was also attempting to score some chicks at the great Cowgirls Inc. I’m not sure it worked.
#2. I did the robot. It was awesome.
#3. At one point, JDub and I were standing next to one of the speaker boxes. And on said speaker box was a delightful 40 year old cougar dancing her troubles away…. and her marriage. More than once she reached down and was touching me on my head. Messing with my hair. It was hilarious. But what can I say, when I have a good hair day, it’s pretty amazing. And last Friday, my hair was pretty good… so it goes without saying that this cougar was obviously smitten. Our time together came to an abrupt end as we decided it was time to leave. But not without her pointing to her wedding ring multiple times, informing me that we would NOT be having hot cougar sex tonight. damn.

We proceeded to our hotel room, escorted by our mighty yellow chariot. As we were driving up the street to our hotel, we couldn’t help but notice two ladies who were scantily clad walking up the street. JDub, upon seeing the ladies, couldn’t help but yell in excitement like she was on an African safari…. oooohhhh HOOKERS! Our mighty cabbie also got excited shouted “hookers!” and proceeded to honk the horn! So as we pulled into our parking lot the hooker picked up the pace to gallantly take over our cab to reach their next destination.

As I got out of our cab, I decided to be the gentleman that I am and hold the door for one of the hookers. As one of them proceeded to walk past me, I couldn’t help but notice in my drunken state that she was indeed wearing a black fur coat. To which I proceeded to take my hand, and pet her arm and proclaim…. “I like this.”

I’m not sure what followed, but no money or bodily fluids were exchanged, and JDub wisely got me inside the hotel without further incidents with the hooker. I did tell some of my friends about said hooker incident and here were some responses….
#1. You have chlamydia.
#2. Did you ask to try it on?
#3. Is one of your eyes going blind, and does it burn when you pee?
#4. Did she charge you for that?

I proceeded to the room to pass out and get ready to face the day ahead of me….

to be continued.

as always email me

until next time.