Friday night.

"What you doing?" I asked my roommate. It's Friday night.

"Nothing."

"Wanna go grab a drink at the bar down the street? I feel like drinking." I said.

"Nah, it's all right. I'm feeling lazy, and I've already took my contacts out."

"Ok. Next time then."

"Are you still gonna go?"

"Yeah. I feel like drinking." My plan was to sit at the bar and drink and people watch. Therefore I didn't really put too much time into getting ready. My hair is half done, I'm wearing glasses, my jacket doesn't match my "Me So Horny" t-shirt and my shoes doesn't match my entire outfit. But I didn't care.

5 minutes later, I was there. I paid the cover charge, went it, and I overheard a man talking to his friends right at the bar.

"When I was 20 to 30, I looked great. I was cute! People complimented me all the time" He said. "Then when I'm 30 something, I don't get so many compliments anymore. And now that I'm 47, (sigh)"

I walked over, placed my hand on his thigh and said, "You're still very cute." He was stunned for a second, but managed to smile as he got his composure back. I smiled back, and walked away.

The bar was full, so I ordered an Absolut cranberry from the only bartender with a shirt on, and proceed to the dance floor, where they are having a who-has-the-best-costumes competition. There's a slutty nurse, a sluttier officer, a huge drag queen, a smaller drag queen and Edward Scissorhand. Of course Edward Sciccorhand won.

"Nice outfit," I said as he walk passed where I was standing.

"You're gorgeous," was his reply.

"Thank you." Karma, I think.

My 1st's gone, the bar's still fully occupied. I decided to hit the dance floor. A few songs later, I saw a cute curly blond dancing right next to me. He has nice moves. Really nice, actually. So nice, that I couldn't help but complimented him.

"YOU HAVE NICE MOVES!" I shouted into his ears.

"THANK YOU. YOU TOO!" was his response. I said thanks and we carried on dancing.

Later, cute curly blond left the dance floor to get a drink. I needed to pee. On my way back to the dance floor, he stopped me.

"WANT A DRINK?"

"WHAT?"

"WANT A DRINKKKKK?!!"

"SURE!"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" He has a strong accent.

"ABSOLUT CRANBERRY."

"GOOD."

"THANK YOU."

"WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"

"SNAKEHEAD. YOU?"

"PIETR."

"WOW, WHAT KIND OF NAME IS THAT?"

"POLISH."

"COOL. DID YOU SEE THAT BARTENDER? HIS NIPPLES ARE HUUUUGE!" Really. It's the size of ear plugs.

"WHAT?!"

"THAT BARTENDER. HIS NIPPLES ARE HUUUGE!"

"OH YES THEY ARE."

"LET'S GO SOMEWHERE WE CAN SIT."

"OKAY."

We got our drinks. He ordered a Cosmopolitan. What a fag.

"So you come here often?" I asked as we settle down. We had some insignificant small talks, most of which I don't remember.

"So where do you live?" he asked.

"3 blocks from here."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. You wanna come over and we can drink some more?"

He looked at me for a second, and said yes.