So I had been seeing this girl for a couple weeks, and she was hella
great. Fabulous sense of fashion, always wore low-cut shirts that
showed off her Lik-Em-Ades with fervor, and a low self-esteem
coupled with an ambiguous sexual past that got me more tail than a
taxidermist, you feel me?
Everything was going great, too, before we decided to go and hit up
Club Dagger Mouth on the North Side because they were having a
twofer night with $2 bottles of Miller Lite and free cover for
ladies. I figured it’s a nice club with cheap drinks, so I can load
up my girlfriend and stumble my way into effortless nookie at four
in the morning. Score one for Thunder, right?
Wrong. At least not with that arrogantly heinous David Schwimmer
hovering over my catch like flies on stink.
There he was, all cramped up in the V.I.P. section of Dagger Mouth
with a posse bigger than 50’s, like he owns the damn place (I
checked later, he does. But that doesn’t excuse his behavior), all
while making eyeballs at my lady. I’m out there dancing with her,
putting on a clinic for those who need to reckonize. So while I’m
grinding methodically into her hips and thighs like the debonair
daddy I am, “Ross” is sending her all these pricey pink cocktails to
get her blitzed. And he’s just sitting up there on this $1200 suede
throne beckoning her to him, probably just to take a shot at an
effortless lay. What a skeeze.
Well, before the night’s over, Schwimmer’s got my girl all wrapped
up in his V.I.P. booth (which stands for Very Ignorant Prick, by the
way), and I’m left alone on the dance floor after paying a $20 cover
for this hose beast and buying her drinks all night. All the while
I’m being stared down by the nerdiest of all the Friends like a
supercilious bully who just yoinked my milk money.
So I lost the battle that night, but I swear on his washed-up career
this war isn’t over. I’m bringing a posse of my own to Dagger Mouth
next weekend. I’ve got like three people ready to come already (as
long as Jeff can come, he works nights loading trucks at the UPS
dock and might get stuck putting in extra hours that night). But if
I can lure him out of his booth, it’s going to be an epic battle of
the ages. I’ve already been practicing what disses I’m going to
impart upon him. Better reckonize.
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