Sunday, May 10, 2009

Friday Night is not Ladies Night, Part II

This is a continuation of a previous post that you should read here.  Sorry for posting this late, I forgot.  Posting the draft from my phone.  Thanks for the kick-in-the-ass emails to remind me.

As I'm driving, I get an email from my Saturday night planning buddy who says he's sick, and so are two other guys who were going out.  We were going to go to a local casino to drink, smoke, gamble and be a bunch of wild and crazy guys.  Since they're sick, I exit stage left on that idea.

I get to Thommy's house in record time: about 12 minutes instead of 20.  Decent traffic, indeed.  I'm the third one to arrive, but the only one with alcohol.  They dump their shitty beers and grab at the Scotch glasses I gave Thommy for Christmas ($109 a piece times 6, real lead crystal).  We pour, add an ice cube each, and clink to our health.  Someone passes out some nice cigarettes, and we sit down to...  play Guitar Hero.  Ugh.  I love the game, really I do, but the addiction is palpable.  I have excellent hand-eye coordination, so I was able to play on Expert mode on day 1.  It's not that hard (the drums are, though).  We run a few songs, and we decide to jump to Wicker Park.

A fast cab ride for the 4 of us, cramped in a tiny cab, and we're rolling into Blu Coral.  I'm pretty excited about it because there are always gorgeous Asian women there.  I've never been with one, but I'd like to some day.  My record: 0 for 500.  I'm not kidding, I've been denied even a phone number 100% of the time from Asians.  Odd.

We order a round of drinks at the lounge.  My friend Micha (a guy) pays for that round, who knows what it cost.  I had a double Scotch which probably ran $30, and the rest of the guys assembled their own cocktails-on-the-rocks.  We're sitting and talking shop when I hear the voice of hell from behind me.  "Chicago-FUCKING-Sane, is that you?"  Great.  Petey Savage (not his real name) and his wife Anna.  Why did I come out to Wicker Park again?

Petey and I go WAY back, as in summer after high school back.  We weren't friends but we were in the same scenes.  We stopped running into each other in 1996, when I met Anna.  We didn't get along, and she always threw me dirty looks.  By 2000, Petey and Anna were dating, and I'd see them both.  She warmed up to me from that point on.  I bailed Petey out of trouble often, and once I even beat down a guy twice my size who was beating on him.  "My hero" she called me.

In 2001, they got engaged.  I bought them a nice engagement gift, and when I went to drop it off, Anna invited me into their condo.  We sat and talked over coffee, and then she laid it out: the proposition.  "So, I'm sure you're aware that our wedding is still over a year away."  Sure.  Big families, lots of friends, lots of planning.  "I was wondering if you'd like to come visit more often."  I don't have a problem with that, but Petey and I aren't that friendly anymore.

"No, I meant visit me."  I opened my mouth to ask her what she means when she looked me up and down.  Anna is a gorgeous Russian woman, 5'1" and all of 100# wet.  I always thought she was sexy, but her nasty attitude towards me ruined that for me.  What about Petey?  "He takes great care of me, I love him more than anyone else I've known or dated."  So what's the problem?  Bedroom boring?  "No, he's fine.  But I lied to him and said I was with 6 guys before him."  And you were with 50?  "No, none.  He took my virginity that I was saving for 'the one'." I think I may have actually gulped.  And where do I fit in?

"Petey always talks about how you are a champ with the ladies."  Right.  I've been single for a year, I'm a champ.  "You know what I mean."  Oh, that.  And you want what?  "I want a lover.  I want to try new things but only up to the year before I get married.  So I have 4 months."  Gulp again.  That's Anna, she's so to the point and aggressive.

I ended up sleeping with her, often.  Twice a week, three times a week.  Petey is super conservative, missionary position.  She gets off, but she wanted to know what else was out there.  Anna was probably my greatest achievement as a lover; there wasn't anything she refused to do, and she begged for it all.  You name it: bukkake (all from me), butt sex (she asked for it every time), rape fantasies, sleep creeps, we did it all.  One time she asked me to punch her and I refused, so she hit me hard and I backhanded her.  Then we fucked for 4 hours, both of us bruised.  I'd never done that since, and I wouldn't want to.

As the 4th month came around, she told me it was done.  I was glad, the woman had worn me out.  A year later I sent them a nice crystal vase for their wedding.  Now they have a kid, and she's hoping for another one.  And they're both here.

Petey shakes my hand, Anna gives me a hug and a kiss.  Like we're all old pals.  I'm sitting here thinking that 8 years ago I was violating this tiny woman in ways that shouldn't be legal (and may not be, in some states).  She took video of it, and I always wonder if one day Petey will pop in Super Bowl 20 and instead it's me banging his wife the wrong way.

We all talk, and they contemplate joining our little bar tour.  Thankfully, Petey is tired and hates the bars I like, so they leave.  I wink at Anna on the way out, and she gives me a mean look.  Cold as ice, but a rocket in the sack.  Not my kind of woman, anyway.

We tab out at Blu Coral and decide to head to the Skylark in Pilsen to meet some friends.  It's dead, surprising for the only hipster bar in the area there.  Drinks are good and cheap.  Women who have too much testosterone and men with too much estrogen are all over the place.  I love the bar, I hate the scene.  We have a round of drinks, and two very attractive girls start hitting on Thommy and Micha.  We all chat and they tell us about a house party about 6 blocks away.  Sounds good.  We walk.

The house party is terrible.  No beer (which is fine with me), no liquor (bad for me), horrible disco pop music and stoned-out-of-their-gourd hipsters who smell something terrible.  I get a text from Celine and Liz who are still out and send them back something vague.  Nice girls.  Trying to tease me hardcore.  If they were honest in their teasing, I'd almost consider joining them.  Instead, we run from the horrible party and cab it up to Underbar on Western and Belmont.

Lesbians galore.  I love lesbians.  And bisexual girls.  Sadly, these are mostly butch lesbians, not my cup of tea.  But the hipster vibe is dying at Underbar, which is a good thing.  Thommy decided to stay at the party, the hot girl he was with was probably high on who knows what pills, and he was going to get some.  Probably while still at the party.  I make my rounds, clink glasses with friends from years past, and talk to a few women.  The women were naturally boring: no style, no taste, no class, no goals, no drive, no responsibility and nothing that would interest me.  Some girl, Mary, gives me her phone number.  She's cute.  Redhead.  Nice butt, small tits, my favorite.  But she's vacant behind the eyes.  There's nothing I can do for her, and nothing she can do for me.

We hole up at Underbar until last call at 3:30.  I grab a cab back to my car (Thommy isn't home yet), and drive home arriving in the 4am hour.

It was a fun night, but nothing worth writing about, other than the Anna run-in.  I didn't get laid, didn't want to get laid, and honestly was just fine getting home and sleeping on my couch.

Not every story here will be fresh and exciting and sensual.  Sometimes, a guy just needs a night out with the guys.  This is that night.


My Other Blog said...

My heart sank when I read he words "Guitar Hero," but at least you didn't spend all night playing that. Not every night has a "happy ending." (Yes, I do know what that means.)

Andy said...

Confession time : While I have great feet/hand coordination, I'm awfully bad at eye/hand coordination. When the video games are easy (read here, childish) there's no problem. But me and Guitar Hero? I just like to sit on the couch and make fun of my friends.

ChicagoSane said...

MOB: I know. I can be fun, especially in mixed company. I do like karaoke, and I don't mind some crazy fun.

Andy: Haha, maybe those spindly fingers of yours get in the way? They're so long that there's a delay between your brain and finger tips?

I don't mind Guitar Hero because I was once in a band (15 years ago) and I still have a rock star vibe whenever I play a real instrument. So when I play that game, the people around me just laugh and hoot and holler. I bounce around, I bend backwards, I play the guitar behind my head. I'm a goofball.

I don't miss being in a band because my music is personal. So I get some of that energy out once in a blue moon.

Yes, even I can be a dork.