I headed over to the bar with my work hubby, where all our other coworkers were already partaking in the happy hour. A new male friend of mine who I flirted back and forth with, texted me to see what I was up to. He asked if I wanted to grab drinks with him, since that seems to be everyone's ritual after work on a Friday night. I invited him to come and meet me and my coworkers out. He agreed and said he would be there shortly. I then informed my work hubby that he had to promise to be on his best behavior, and not try and make him feel too uncomfortable. As I said this to him, he was in the process of bring up gay porn pictures of men on his phone to show random men attempting to get drinks at the bar to see how squirmish they could get. I said a little prayer and hoped for the best.
The guy showed up shortly after, said hi and right away offered to buy my coworker and I drinks.
After a few rounds and even him hitting it off with my work hubby and not blushing once at all the inappropriate pics and comments that went his way, I decided this guy was pretty awesome. The girl who's happy hour it was, was well past drunk after a few celebratory shots. We decided to move the party to a new location, somewhere with food. We all headed to the mission, including the guy. After a few more drinks at the restaurant, the flirting really started to heat up. He became much more touchy feely, and kept saying how we would make a cute couple. It was then brought up that a night of dancing was to follow dinner. I agreed because as I have mentioned, when I am drunk I think I can pop a move like usher when really I look like those rejects who try out for "So You Think You Can Dance" just to get ratings and laughs. After dinner when all of us had a nice buzz going, my work hubby, the guy and I, decided to head to a local bar in the mission that had a dance floor. Right when we got in, the guy bought me a martini (like I needed one, I was almost a sure thing by this point). We all went out to the dance floor and that's when the real fun happened. My work hubby convinced the guy to take his shirt off and dance with him on stage, waving it around in the air. After their little show, I decided it was time for me to break out the big guns, and do my favorite dance move to show off. This special dance is nicknamed "the Santa Barbara slut dance" because that's exactly what it looked like as your doing it. An easy whore, which almost always followed with a night that fit the name. My friends and I perfected it while on stage at Q's during my four years at UCSB (glad that degree got me something useful). As he came back to the dance floor, I went in for my signature move, which is basically something only strippers at the Spearment rhino do. You slowly move down there leg with your body, bounce a few times on the ground while down there, and then slowly come up all seductively. My work hubby was cheering me on, and when I got to the ground to bounce, I heard/felt a huge tear, and a cool breeze hitting my bare ass. I jumped up right away and covered my butt. I asked my work hubby to inspect the damage. He said that it didn't look to bad at all, (then again he was drunk) and that I really shouldn't worry since I was in the mission and the hipsters do it all the time to make themselves look cool. I right away ordered another drink hoping that the alcohol would make me forget the air being blown on my butt. We partied for another hour, dancing my butt off literally, until the stares and points started becoming overwhelming. I made my work hubby take a picture to show me how bad the damage was. This is what he showed me:
I should have been mortified, but oddly, I wasnt. If anything, I think the rip helped increase my game for that night. Nothing came of the guy and I, maybe because he learned I really dont have any sexy moves in me. If I have learned one lesson from that night, its that I am officially to old to still "drop it like its hot".