Bisexual Girls Club

Notions of Sexuality: Various comments on sexual matters.
~ Monday, April 26 ~
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Random texts on a random night in New York City

Luckily I ran from the train station to meet my friend (of course I was running late anyway). It started raining right after I made it inside.

We’re at Stanton Public outside in the back getting wet under the umbrellas. So much for protection. Some white guy douche trying to flirt with us. No free drinks here though. Glad I brought my own stash. Just met the owner. I wonder if he knows I’m not actually drinking water.

Ah an old favorite, but I won’t say the name since it’s not it’s usual best… tonight it’s filled with jocks and bridge and tunnel types who aren’t all that friendly. What a waste of comfy couches and a rough, edgy vibe.

On to some cheesy looking all white restaurant. Just a quick food stop for my friend. Over-priced though. Makes me lose my appetite. I think I’ll stick to my “water” and try to catch a bite at another place soon.

My friend had to take out some money at her old deli place (near where she used to live). Almost bought a banana, but then I realized.. Shit! I left my bag at the cheesy looking white restaurant. Food will have to wait.

Thank goodness, bag was still right where I left it. Couldn’t leave my water behind.

Next stop, awesome wine place. Just what I was looking for. Shrimp apps are delicious. Finally something to soak up all the rum “water” I’ve been drinking. Didn’t realize I had so much. Luckily I brought the smaller bottle.

Now that I have some food in my belly, I can enjoy some wine too. Asian girls who live by are a lot friendlier than most people all night long. It’s only now that is seems like the lower east side I remember.

Hey we might as well stop at Katra.

Or maybe not… some stupid guy smoking my cig, now says he doesn’t even smoke anyway. How annoying is that?

Okay, now this is getting ridiculous. Some guy grabbed me so I grabbed him back, held on really tight, squeezed pretty darn hard, screamed No! at him and stuck my middle finger at him. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it. Too often I just let that shit go and they think they can do whatever the fuck they want. I didn’t let him leave my sight until the bouncers got involved. Man I was pumped. No one was going to mess with me.

Okay, time to leave. Hispanic guy who doesn’t smoke but asked for a cigarette anyway earlier now tried to kiss me goodbye when he saw me heading off. Woah. Fuck off I told him. Grabbed my friend now that she finally got sick of some random guy pressing his penis against her and calling it dancing… Off to the next place.

Random stop number what? Luckily the last place didn’t kill my party mood, or maybe lucky we found this band place. So awesome and spacious I had to do a cartwheel… I happened to be wearing my mini dress and wedge heels. Yeah that seems kind of crazy. I probably wouldn’t have done it with other heels on. Wedge heels are pretty sturdy so it was okay.

Sexy band just cause the leader was all sweaty and fit looking like he was working out with every note he belted out… gets your heart pumping more. That’s the great thing about watching a live band. You can fall in love with life in an instant.

Now where to? 4am and not a clue where to next, but not ready to call it a night. Walking around aimlessly might possibly help.

Oh, what do you know some Brits started talking to us and offered to buy us some beers. So we followed them to a bodega and then a nearby park and sat down to enjoy sharing a sick pack while the light of dawn came up. How romantic??

That was a lot of drinking. I had to pee and so did the other Brit, but he had a shy bladder. I had to show him how to pee fearlessly against the tree.

Okay, 530, buzz is wearing off. Time to go home. I guess it’s going to be a long way home with all the weekend train problems lately. Maybe I can doze off and eventually I’ll get home.

Wow, now I am awake! I was on the train for who knows how long, dozing off, when I realized I had to pee really bad again. I got up and got out of the train, not knowing or caring where I was, started up the stairs to the outside world, went up to a vestibule without a booth, found no one around, so I just peed right there in the vestibule! Ha ha! Then I went back downstairs to try to get back on the train and realized I was actually at a station with a better transfer direct to my house, got on that train which was right there just waiting for me, lay down and fell asleep till suddenly I was at my home station just like that. Magic happens on a random night out.

Next day my friend got a text from someone she’s not sure who. Probably the guy who was grinding his penis against her. I told her it must be love. Not sure what ever became of that “connection.”

Tags: Nightlife Drinking
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A Mellow Night in Brooklyn

In just 20 minutes I’ll be at The Sea and relaxing with a drink in hand. I’ll have just one drink or two and then head back home. Getting out of the house for a little while is okay for tonight. No need to overdo it.

Damn, it’s been almost an hour and I’m still waiting for this train to leave. That Shuttle detour took even longer than I imagined.

Finally! It took yet another half hour to go just one stop (at this hour I was not going to walk around in my mini dress and heels by myself. I don’t know these streets as well as Manhattan). At least I’m out of the station now anyway. So I’ll just make it in time for one drink at least.

Standing outside - it looks to me more like a Bridge and Tunnel crowd. Not what I expected from Williamsburg, but I came all the way over so I have to at least check it out inside.

Ah, what the heck, I’ll find another place. It’s just a little bit after 130am and the bartender is giving the last call already. That’s a few points off this place. And I heard it was the place to be. I’m so much more used to places like Cafeteria in Manhattan!

Fortunately it sounds like a party, though the place is a bit too large and bright. In any case, maybe this night won’t be a complete loss. It is going to take me a while to get back home, so at least let me get some semblance of a buzz going. Karaoke may not be my favorite thing, but at least it’s something that’s open. I’ll just have one drink and then try the more mellow surf bar up the street.

Wow, STIFF drink. And only $5… me likes, me likes…

Still it’s kinda noisy and people aren’t all that friendly – they all seem to be out on dates. I  somehow think Europeans got this socializing thing down better than Americans do. If I’m not on my top game, I’ve noticed that nobody is ever really that open to branching out of their own little world. I’ve always found that attitude to be very different outside of here. I remember when I went to Morocco, all you had to do was bump into someone and they would share their hash. Then you’d instantly have a new friend for that night. Let me check out the surfer bar if I can fare any better there.

***

Okay, that was another dud. Sand on the ground was interesting, but the drinks were at least $2 more than at the Karaoke bar and the company was not exactly pleasant. The place was practically empty and two of the four patrons were actually employees visiting on the night off. Some girl said she wore the wrong shoes and I responded, “When you lose, don’t lose the lesson.” I could have parlayed that (from some spam) into a good flirting technique, but her wimpy looking borefriend whined till she agreed to go back into the deserted bar.

At least the last place had cheap and strong drinks. Taking my own advise, I decided not to lose the lesson and figured it was better to go where I could enjoy a drink and at least that way the night would not be a total loss. As soon as I realized there was a Karaoke bar downstairs I figured I’d give it a shot – at least there was some possibility of meeting people there.

There was way too much sausage and the company wasn’t all that inviting. I mistakenly had such high hopes for Brooklyn, but I suppose this was just not really my type of neighborhood. Well, It was a smidgen better than any other place I’d been to so far, so I was at least going to finish my drink. A cute girl and her date sat next to me. Every time he got up I would chat her up. Hell, guys do that shit to me all the time when I’m on a date. Not that it panned out to say taking her back to my place, but at least it was temporarily entertaining. They had just reunited after some time. They had known each other in high school but never dated. She confided to me that she might sleep with him that night. Unfortunately, the bar had a very straight vibe. It felt a little like midtown Manhattan or even Queens. Note to self: Don’t come back. In the meantime I decided to enjoy a second drink before taking the journey home.
 
Soon I had a bunch of large unattractive guys make a few attempts at flirting with me till an older guy sat right next to me and just ordered a drink. I would say he was a bit heavier set than I am usually into, but he was cute and he made me laugh for some reason. We somehow got to talking about his gun. He was a cop. He had his gun strapped to his ankle. Wow, I wanted to squeeze that. It is taking entirely too long to fulfill that fantasy of mine. I checked out his badge. I took a phone picture with it. He bought me two or three drinks and a shot. I was VERY happy, despite not having too much conversation and not meeting any hot chicks. He offered to take me home after I told him I’d be fine going back via train-shuttle-train. It seemed like a good idea at the time to accept his help, but I did insist that I just wanted to go straight home.

By his car, I leaped on him and kissed him and it felt good, but I was probably high from the drinks and the thought of shooting his gun (his real gun not his flesh gun). He let me in his car, all the while probably thinking he would be getting sex. Luckily for me, I noticed he wasn’t quite going the right way and he kept talking about his place. I insisted emphatically that I had only agreed to let him take me home. He seemed worried that I didn’t trust him (which I momentarily did not, but trusted my fighting instincts well enough to prepare myself immediately in case this got ugly) and assured me that he would not try anything. He reminded me that he was a cop and he had no bad intentions.

He pulled over (at which point I was ready to run from the car if I had to, but he said he was just going to take a leak. I saw him get out and waited for a little further information before making my next move). He did indeed take a leak on the side of the road. Suddenly I needed fresh air. I opened the car door and threw up all over the ground. Some of it got on the car door. Phil the cop didn’t seem to get too upset. He just asked me if I was okay, drove me home and even kissed me goodbye (yuck-did he forget what just happened? Was he drunk too??)

All I thought later was that I could have really gotten myself into a big mess. Somehow I managed to use some judgment and also got a lot of lucky too. Phil the cop did not harm me, but he could have! I pride myself in being able to get myself home safe, but simply being drunk by yourself and going home with a stranger (who had also been drinking, though he had said he had sobered up, but was I in any state to really know the difference??)  can be a recipe for disaster. I am reminded that the buddy system is always best. It probably would be better to just improve on my judgment calls going forward. How many women find themselves not being fully aware of their surroundings after a night of drinking. Not all the people you come across will be as nice as Phil the cop.

Tags: Nightlife Drinking Lifestyle
~ Sunday, April 18 ~
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The Nightmare continues

As the Night of Hell in Long Island unfolded, I went along with my presentation and things were going swimmingly for a time. I was passing out the toys and various lotions and powders - one or two at a time from one end of the room to the other end. I was patiently giving massages with the Super Deluxe Smitten and the RomantaTherapy Alluring body lotion. I was numbing people’s lips with the strawberry flavored Nipple Nibbler, which can be used on your nipples for more plumpness. It also works as a chap stick, but it is not vagina friendly. For the clit, you can try the Tasty Tease instead. People seemed to be having fun. They even stopped yelling for the toys for and settled down a bit.

I’m not quite sure when it started to go bad. I think people were just beginning to get tired and just more drunk (calm before the storm) as the night wore on. Hence the real reason for the temporary lull. And I started to have to talk louder and louder over them towards the end. It was only supposed to be half an hour but ended up going to about an hour because there were so many people going in and out of the room who asked me to repeat certain things. That is where I should also have asked Marian, the hostess to control the crowd a bit – if they missed something we could go back to it later. Yeah, now I’m coming up with all these ideas. If was just frustrating and easy to get flustered, though I did handle it well for a while – just that it all fell apart like a cheap suit (!) nearing the end. And I know I was losing the crowd a little, but I started to hand out more vibrators, which they all seemed to like, though some were impatient for their turn. I needed an assistant for crowd control or passing things around so I could attend to the people who were ready to buy NOW.

I too was eager to get to the purchases, but people started to get up. And I tried explaining again that they have to fill out the form - well the only reason I didn’t do it before I started to presentation was because they were already tired then! See, it was a recipe for disaster from the beginning. A big problem was that I was trying to keep them stimulated from the beginning and then later while attending to those who were ready to buy.

My mistakes were numerous.

  1. I should have made them fill out the forms in the beginning for sure and I did have that planned, but I skipped it. I skipped when I should have been more disciplined about it, and I didn’t skipped things that I should have.
  2. I left those toys out (though I did put most of them away, that wasn’t good enough). With the toys it has to be all or nothing. People are fiends for those things! And I have been warned about the toys. So many of the other consultants have had those stolen.
  3. I really should have skipped some of the lotions in my demonstration (although I find them particularly stimulating, these people just wanted to dildos) so I could have gotten to the sales part more quickly!
  4. Oh yeah, and I shouldn’t have done the party - yeah, that would have been a wise mistake to avoid
  5. I shouldn’t have done the raffle; yeah, I’ll tell you about that one shortly…
  6. I shouldn’t have let the party continue after each ridiculous nonsense that these people tried to pull on me left and right…

At some point, Tashala (the bitch!) came back around and I asked her for my feather toy. Not surprisingly, she wouldn’t give the toy back. Another mistake! I should not have asked (another stupid mistake). I should have either stopped the party or told the hostess to get it, but I was trying not to ruin the mood and I guess I was more shocked then I really should have been. Obviously in her state she was going to be as rude as she could be - then she could just blame it on the alcohol and say, “that is not like me at all, I just got carried away,” and that was exactly what she did. The closest thing to an apology, but did I ever get my payment? She’s good for it, and I’m good for it is all I heard from the hostess and from Tashala. By the time I realized she had left, she was calling Marian the hostess back and Marian had to ask her if she left with the toy.

Not concerning myself terribly with the feather toy (not imagining Tashala had actually left - but hell of course next time I will say, “The toy back in my hand or I put everything away immediately and the party ends!”), I went about the business of putting my Magic Monarch, Jelly Osaki, Pink Passion and Gigi (masturbation sleeve) away along with the Nubby G (G spot locator with nubs at the bottom of the shaft). I certainly did not want to lose any of that.

For a moment I panicked for the Gigi. While it may have been a false alarm for the Gigi, maybe that should have reminded me that I had brought out the Ultimate Stroker too! And that one was unopened… so nice and brand new, fresh and ready for anyone to use!

I put all my toys away, or so I thought. The Ultimate Stroker was definitely not put away and the person who had it was probably gone too - snuck out like a rat - or perhaps had it in their bag and smiled at me sheepishly, while saying goodbye, without me realizing it!

Now I was ready for the sales. And lo and behold I get a guy who wanted to bargain with me! He put is like so, “I’m doing you a favor - to make sure you get the sale.” He wanted to get a $10 discount on two items that combined to less than $30! I mean come one. And I was just losing control more and more by the minute. I ended up not charging him for shipping. But for what? I guess I felt I kind of had no choice, but hell, I should have gotten some balls right at that moment and reminded him that this is my source of income (not my only source but as far as anyone’s concerned and the whole reason for me doing the party to begin with - but no everyone has a sob story - even for sex toys) and just said “NO” to him!

He kept pressing me for the Love Smitten (a harder version of the Super Deluxe Smitten) at a ridiculous bargain (actually I forgot I even had a new unopened one with me!) and I refused him. So he finally paid me for his order and I moved on.

Stupidly, I continued without regrouping and just deciding to cut my losses. Why bother doing them any favors. I had started with the idea of a raffle and all I had to do was call out the ticket number which I had chosen before giving out the tickets (allowing people to randomly grab them so no I did not see who would have the winning number). And I proceeded to read the number out loud. Given the disastrous turn of events, even already at this time - 5 purchases totaling under $300! - I should have read a false number. Screw that, why should they get anything?? And then I still could have given a tiny prize for the raffle, but I felt like they were under whelmed and so I wanted to leave with a wow maybe? I did not have my thinking cap on or my business cap on because frankly I was exhausted. And so for some reason trying to please people with my presentation in all the wrong ways, I gave out the Love Mitten which probably would have been better just to keep for myself or hell I should have sold it to that guy for twice as much. It just all happened so fast, and rather than stop myself I just wanted to run away and so in a way rushed through the last half hour I was there without thinking things through better. I felt bombarded by everyone. I don’t know, maybe I was intimidated. This was my biggest party ever. And some people seemed rather sweet; maybe it confused me because there were others that were such assholes I almost just wanted to gain some alliances. Or maybe I felt obligated to finish absolutely everything I set out to do from the beginning. I was a slave to my own plan in a way. Maybe I’m not so good on the fly when money is involved. And certainly not being used to this type of business practice… How could I have made so many mistakes?

As soon as the guy saw the raffle winner get the toy he wanted, he gave me the most evil look! And I merely shrugged my shoulders and said, “I can’t help it. She won it. Sorry.” But he didn’t even deserve my apologies. Though if my head were in the right business mode, I would have given her a tiny lotion and sold the Love Smitten to him!

It wasn’t until after the raffle that I noticed my Ultimate Stroker was missing.

I started my presentation around 10pm and didn’t leave till after midnight.

Getting up to the train was another disaster. In my mind, I would grab the handles of the suitcases on wheels that contained all my belongings and just pull from behind me as I entered the escalator. That didn’t quite work as the red luggage toppled over and the handles of the bag that sat on top of it broke. So I tied the leather handles of that bag tightly onto the metal/plastic handles of the red luggage. Then I tried again. I placed the black luggage in front of me and moved the red one behind me. That didn’t quite work either. I nearly fell over the front one as the back one pushed me when the escalator moved forward. All the while my “helpful” driver was just watching me and asking if she could help. It was pretty embarrassing actually and even though I could have used the help, I didn’t even know where to start. The red luggage fell again but seemed to be stuck in one place. So I just told her I had it and that I would pick the stuff up at the top of the stairs so she need not worry about me. But I knew it was all pretty damn precarious.

Once I got closer to the top of the stairs, I could tell that the luggage in front of me was not budging. Not only had it jammed at a weird angle, it was extremely heavy. So my idea of tossing it over the top of the escalator as I got to the edge wasn’t really my best option. No, going up those escalators was not my brightest moment. Somehow I became stuck at the top. My arms had no strength left in them and I helplessly watched as the leather straps of the smaller bag (which sat on the red luggage) began to break again. And the red luggage now sat on the highest incline of the escalator. Then the leather bag started to spill out all the folders it contained.

Not to lose yet more of my belongings, I bent over to grab the folders as quickly as possible (it’s possible I was somehow able to secure them a little), but seconds after realized I might be in danger of toppling over myself. So I threw the folders over the top of the staircase and then jumped over the black luggage in front of me so that at least I could be out of the danger zone myself. Then immediately after jumping over I turned back to grab more folders. As it turns out they weren’t going anywhere. They were pretty jammed against the escalator wall and at the same time getting chewed up by the escalator’s teeth.

I got scratched up but finally got all the folders onto the platform. Then with the last bit of strength I found somehow, I pulled out the red and black suit cases and gathered around my mess to pick it all up.

I did see some people there, but they were too busy minding their own business so I tried to simply assess the damage. Finally I got all the folders and crap I had with me in one place and sat down. The folders suffered minimal damage (some torn up some with foot prints all over) all things considered.

I felt almost lifeless at that point. Waiting for the train for about an hour made me rethink a lot of things. And I called Lex and he comforted me. And I waited some more for the train.

Exhausted though I was I stayed awake through the whole ride (probably another hour) - not wanting to wake up with all my shit gone!

At Penn Station I made my way along the platform, only to stop dead in my tracks at an escalator. As if I was reliving a Pavlovian nightmare, I couldn’t move forward. No way I was getting on the escalator again. I started to search for an elevator. A man noticed me and, figuring what I was looking for, assured me that there was an elevator at the other end of the platform. I followed him for a couple of minutes and it seemed eerily quiet all around me (at this point it was past 2am). I stopped once again and thought, “No way, you’re going from the fire into the frying pan! This man might mean you harm. Think! There’s no one around. You’re going to have to force yourself up the escalator again. That’s your only choice!” And also, “Am I about to get assaulted??” That did cross my mind. I rushed back to the escalator telling the man thank you and that I would find another way. Luckily part of it was only my paranoid thoughts (though I still think it WAS SAFER to just head back to the escalator) because the man offered to help me up the escalator. So I hesitantly let him grab one of the suit cases (he could still steal my shit! Come on, this is New York. You can’t underestimate anyone!). And he safely got me up the stairs. Finally, I met a Good Samaritan.

Here I was, still alive. Ready to take the train home (yes another one!). And at that moment I just thought fuck this. I’m taking a taxi the rest of the way. And even though I started to make a plan for how I would get myself to the 1 or the E and then transfer at a station with an elevator for the L, I just gave up the fight and got out into the street for a sweet ride home! Eating up more of my measly profits on the way, I couldn’t be more relieved to just be able to sit back.

I made it home after 3am.

****

Several calls and emails to Tashala and Marian trying to get payment for my feather toy - two months later. Tashala insisted that the check was in the mail, even though I initially asked for a credit card number. I shouldn’t even have given her my address. I even started to get paranoid about that. Because I imagined harassing her for the money, yet not knowing where she lives she could more easily come over to me and threaten me back more seriously (??? Don’t know where my head was???). Hell - what was I going to do to enforce any of my requirements! The company doesn’t help in that situation. How can they really? And I certainly didn’t have time to knock at their doors. It would cost me more than the toy to go back and forth to Long Island! I still don’t have the payment for my feather toy and no of course Marian never found my Ultimate Stroker.

And I never heard from anyone else from that party even though they said they were interested in more (products, parties, even becoming consultants themselves). I guess when they saw that my shit was stolen they decided to be smarter than I was and not bother with this shit.

I got a ride to the LIRR station, but that was almost the only bit of luck. That and I guess not getting robbed and well, I made it home in one piece. None the worse for wear. No, that type of party situation is not what I ever bargained for! At least the night of hell in Long Island was finally over.

Tags: Parties Disasters Drinking Entertainment Work Theft
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A Night of Hell in Long Island

I should have seen this coming…

When a friend told me that she knew someone who wanted to have a sex toys party along with a Candle Light party, my initial instinct was, umm… I don’t think so. There were so many reasons I could think of why it wouldn’t work. The first one was that it would be the wrong crowd for my line of products. I mean, sure candles can be very sexy, but somehow it seemed like that would draw some little old ladies. And of course, you’re asking the potential customers to stretch their budget between TWO stores and it would just be unnecessary competition. Unfortunately, since I had not had a party in a while, I thought A Party was better than None. I didn’t focus on the other red flags.

Basically what I walked into was a recipe for disaster and what I thought were challenges I was supposed to face, where actually just me shooting myself in the foot so that I could prove I could take the pain. My true challenge, which I failed, had been to be strong enough to refuse the party, especially once I found out if was in Long Island.

It took me so long to prepare, I ended up calling in sick for work just to set up. I was told there were going to be 50 people attending. A mix of men and women. Not my normal crowd, but hey, it sounded like a great opportunity. I almost wonder if I was being greedy, but hey, am I supposed to be intimidated by the fact that there were so many people?? I’m sure there have been parties like this or other product demos with that many and more parties and it’s not called being greedy - it’s just called doing business.

Even my friend bailed when she found out it was in Long Island. I should have taken that out! Should’a, would’a, could’a…

Another big red flag was that my aunt was supposed to drive me there and pick me up, or so I thought. As she was helping me get my stuff in the car and make some final preparations (stuffing envelops with new catalogs and order forms - A week before the party I realized I didn’t have enough catalogs and had my aunt bring me some as I would not be able to get new ones in time - it was like something out of newbie central), my aunt said, “I didn’t say I would pick you up,” after I mentioned around what time I would be ready for her to come get me… Now that was a shock to my system. At this point I could have faked an injury - or just man up and say well things fell through and I must unavoidably cancel - I was trying to not be the one who said she’d be there and then flaked out at the last minute. I really hate being that person and I didn’t want to disappoint my friend since she got me the gig. Still, what the hell did I owe anyone? The truth is I could have just eaten crow later about it and then next time not let a friend get me a gig. It would have been preferable to have taken shit from my friend for a little while then what did transpire. Well, instead of being firm and said NO! Stop the clock! This is NOT HAPPENING! and realizing that this was an insane expedition, I swallowed the butterflies in my stomach and pressed onward. Hell, with two perfectly good suitcases on wheels, this should be almost a piece of cake!

There’s a thin line between being the stubborn brat who says, “I can’t,” or “I won’t,” and being the decisive adult who says, “I can’t,” or “I won’t. Perhaps sometimes I worry too much about others respecting my decisions. Although I admire flexibility in person, I have a lot of respect for people who stick to their guns without expressing a lot of doubt. Regardless, I made my choices and I have to live with that.

I’m not sure at what point it became a comedy of errors, but it just seemed like one bit of ridiculous nonsense after another once it all started to fall apart. If only I could have watched it all unfold from the distance. In the car I began to practice my demo and it all seemed like it was actually going to work out.

As soon as I got there my aunt seemed a little worried… I don’t know if she had some sixth sense about it or her own prejudices were giving her the jitters, but at that moment I should have practiced a bit of her skepticism. That would be my last chance to get out unscathed. My aunt even offered to stick around. Unfortunately my nerves took everything the wrong way. In my mind I thought I was answering a question of whether I was strong enough to do this on my own… either that or I knew I was too weak to do a winning presentation and didn’t want to flail in front of my dear aunt. Would want her to think she had something to be proud of. What I should have been doing was swallowing my pride and accepted her last offer to help.

As she left, she continued to look back over her shoulder. I thought, “Now is the time. Either sink or swim.” And I felt a kick of, “Damn at least let me do a good enough job. I think I can, I think I can… let’s go woman get to it.” And so I began my night of hell in Long Island.

I was supposed to start at 8pm. The candle person hadn’t even started yet and it was just after 730pm. So I was offered some margaritas (no I did not partake, well perhaps just a sip, but I absolutely did not have more than a sip… that path I knew was wrong - not because I don’t love to drink, but because I wanted my wits about me at all times. At least I did that right). Everyone around me was drinking. They seemed pleasant enough so I grabbed a few crackers and grapes and my margarita and sat down, just trying to start a conversation with anyone really, but mostly looking at my index cards just to make sure when it came to my turn I had everything organized.

It got to be pretty exhausting actually. I probably didn’t even start until about 930 or 10pm! Well, finally it was my turn. At this point everyone was restless and they seemed to think I was there to perform a sex show. Some people were shouting bring out the toys. Tashala, a slightly inebriated, slightly flirtatious, slightly obnoxious woman, approached me. My first mistake during my presentation (even though every instinct told me this woman was probably a real bitch) was to let her hold my feather toy.

Naively, I thought it would calm her down and keep her from becoming a troublemaker…

Tags: Parties Disasters Drinking Entertainment Work