And the bar got even more packed. everyone was shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, and he was standing specially close to me. i was seated on the bar stool so i had to look up at him, giving him my best puppy eyes as we talked. the bartender came back to us finally and two drinks in her hand and handed him and me one thinking we were a couple. but my BF came up behind us and grabbed both drinks in a rush, so that i would follow him back to the table. but in his hurry he spilled one drink on himself and over the man that was flirting with me. both thier pants were wet. majority of the drink spilled on my BF, The guy was furious. he turned to my BF and cussed him out, my BF just looked down and said "my bad, my bad,my bad" while trying to pick up the drink. my BF jeans were complete soaked with alcohol. He said "lets go back home i need to change" but i told him i would wait for him here at the bar bc we only lived 5 minutes away. as i still had the other unspilt drink in my hand. but. She brushed the long hair out her eyes as she made it to her feet in her large bedroom, making a point to avoid the large amounts of sunlight that streamed in from the skylight above her. Slowly, and on unsteady feet, she made her way to the bathroom, where she pulled down her basketball shorts, ambled her way to the toilet, aimed her morning wood at the toilet and let it fly. As she was standing there relieving herself, her mind was slowly waking up, remembering the tasks at hand that day. "Hmm... I gotta meet up with my girl, spend some quality time with her. Then I gotta meet up with that bitch from Wired to finish my interview. Well, mind as well get going," she thought to herself. After finishing and flushing the toilet, she moved over to her sink and took a good look at herself in the mirror. Her bloodshot eyes took a good glance at her long, straight, tousled hair, messing from a night's worth of tossing and turning in bed. They moved down to her artificial breasts floating.
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