My cousin Michael gets out on prison next week. He’s spent the last three and a half years locked-up at a minimum-security place in Wisconsin a for a white-collar crime, basically for something someone connected would have received a slap on the wrist. So, the first thing to do when he gets back home is to take him out and show him a good time, including getting him laid.
Before he reported to prison I took him out for a few drinks, in what turned out to be a night to remember if you were a recent hair transplant recipient or a midget.
We started off drinking Tequila at The Pumping Co. We’d been sitting at a table for maybe thirty minutes, when Michael decided that he wanted to sit at the bar. OK, fine with me. Well, Michael being Michael, he starts up a conversation with the guy (Cubs Fan) next to him, and after ten minutes of talking about pussy-this and pussy-that, buys him a drink. This guy looked like any other schmo in the place: jeans, Cubs hat, short hair and he looked like he might have pumped some iron back in the day, maybe even played football in high school.
So, in walks this hot piece of white trash (WT), who looks like she wants to spend a some time “entertaining” one of us. Unfortunately, for Michael, it was his new buddy. WT proceeds to walk straight up to Cubs Fan and plant a slow, deep, wet kiss that would have made the Pope get a hard-on. It lasted about thirty seconds, which was just enough time for Michael to mentally tear off her clothes and have sex with her three times. You have to keep in mind that its gonna be over a thousand days and nights before Michael can get some, so he’s sorta out of his mind at this point.
For the next hour or so, Michael orders round after round of beer, knowing that Cubs Fan will have to use the restroom, thus giving Michael a chance to seduce WT, bolt out the door, catch a cab, get back to her place and… Again, keep in mind that he’s sorta out of his mind. I could tell by now that Cubs Fan was onto Michael’s plan and had been holding off, so that Michael would have to go first, because WT was flirting right back a Michael, big time. She was behaving like she hadn’t been boned in months. But now, after about ninety minutes, Cubs Fan had to abandon his defense and say he’s gotta take a leak. Hmph, Michael looks at me with a smirk as we both watch Cubs Fan walk to the restrooms. But, we both just about fall off our bar stools when we watch Cubs Fan go inside the women’s restroom.
Ohhhhhhhhh, we get it now! Michael wasted no time in telling WT that he was going to be locked up for a while and really wanted to have some wonton sex before he went away and that he could tell that she could really use a high, hard one to boot. It was a win-win situation! She bit, but Cubs Fan must have sensed something was awry, because she was double-timing it back to our spot before we could pay the tab. So, I was pulling money out of my pocket and stepping to the bar…
I guess I shoulda known, By the way u parked your car sideways, That it wouldn’t last
See you’re the kinda person, That believes in makin’ out once, Love em and leave em fast
I guess I must be dumb, cuz u had a pocket full of horses,Trojan and some of them used
It it was saturday night, I guess that makes it all right, And u say what have I…
Oh yeah, baby. You like sucking my toes? Oh yeah…
Heh? What? I woke up on the floor to see Michael laying face down, on top of two broken chairs, with a Cubs hat and hand full of hair. Evidently, I took a step towards Cubs Fan, which she took as an act of aggression, thus planting her left elbow squarely on my right temple. I later found out this strike is called Empi Uchi, in the Japanese art of Shotokan Karate, of which Cubs Fan holds a Third Degree Black Belt. Michael was introduced to the Shuto yoko ganmen uchi (knife-hand strike to head), and from what we later heard, a very pretty Ushiro mawashi geri (reverse roundhouse kick), followed by a Yoko tettsui (sideways hammer-fist strike). I guess I got off lucky. Evidently, the hair in Michael’s hand was from Cub Fan’s recent hair transplant. He has no recollection of grabbing her head and to be honest, I think she might have allowed him a free shot, but got pissed that he went for the hair instead of a kick to the nuts or something. I can’t blame Michael though, our high school wrestling coach always told us “Control the head, control the beast”.
Oh, yeah, the midget. To make a long story short, we ended up at the 7-Eleven, near Western and Lawrence, when Michael spotted a hot (remember…) midget getting into a cab, we hopped in a cab and followed her to Grafton’s Pub, where she simply disappeared into the crowd inside (imagine that). We looked for her for thirty minutes (or five beers, whichever came first) before we found her sitting at a table full of Grafton softball players. Michael looked like a mess with a swollen eye and lip, dried blood on his beard, and a bloody and torn shirt. He assumed that with her being a “little person” (notice how I used small caps to write that?) that she would take anything that she could get, but this gal had some class. He tried every conceivable approach, Jedi mind tricks and even cash, to no avail. Overall, getting your ass kicked by a dyke and being shot down by a midget is not the way to spend one of your last nights as a free man.