Wedgie girl game of thrones4/23/2024 Wordlessly, she marched to the bathroom to clean up while I turned to James to demand an apology. To everyone’s astonishment, Frank screamed, ‘Bitch! Imma pour beer in your lap!’ And to our horror, he emptied the contents of his pint onto my friend’s lap as we all watched, stunned. Harry then set it on top of Gina’s drink, who continued the awkward game of pass-the-parcel – because we literally didn’t have anything to say to each other – by placing it on top of Frank’s beer. Refusing to read the social cues, when we arrived at the next place, James made Frank and Gina sit next to each other in a dark corner. Beside me, James was growing edgy: I could tell he felt the success of Frank’s match with Gina precluded the success of his own match with me.įeeling responsible, I did my best to correct the course of the night and suggested we meet another couple of our friends at a different bar to change the dynamic. To her credit, Gina tried to have a legitimate conversation with Frank, she really did, but to each topic she brought up, whether that be current affairs or work, his responses were along the same lines of his earlier witticism about what Chuck may or may not have done in a cocktail glass.Įventually Gina buried herself in her phone. The bar was standing room only, except for the eight or so coveted seats, which our two gents refused to vacate, despite my hints that my feet felt like they’d been strapped to razors. This look told me that her b******t meter was running on empty and I owed her… big time.Īs we sipped our drinks, the conversation refused to flow. We’d known each other since school, so we shared the ability to communicate with merely a glance at one another. I’ll never forget the horror and disgust on Gina’s face at the crass joke. Frank sniggered and said, ‘Catastrophe? More like Chuck had an abortion in a glass!’Īs we sipped our drinks, the conversation refused to flow One of the drinks was called ‘Chuck’s Catastrophe’. I avoided Gina’s piercing gaze as we ordered our own. When we walked in 20 minutes later, they were each enjoying the establishment’s signature tiki rum cocktail – with nothing ordered for us. ‘You’ll be in in no time,’ they assured us as they disappeared into the cosy setting. Yet, did these gents allow us to go in first and relieve my aching arches when the doorman said only two of our group could go in? No, the ham-fisted meatheads barged ahead of us. James and Frank finally arrived drenched in Drakkar Noir aftershave about five minutes before it was our turn to be ushered inside. My stilettos were already cutting mercilessly into the tender flesh of my feet and I desperately needed to sit down. It was a small venue and usually had a 45-50 minute wait to get in, so when James and Frank informed us via text 10 minutes before we were supposed to meet that they’d be late, it wasn’t an ideal start. So we agreed to meet James and his buddy, Frank*, at a tiki bar in LA to start the night off. How badly could a night go, with my best friend Gina* in tow…? Plus, I’d suggested we make it a double-date.
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