Settle down kids. Yes, I'm going to tell you about the man. No, he doesn't have a name yet. For now he'll just be A.
My neighbors, Marge and Homer are some of my very dearest friends. The Things and their two girls are about as close as you can get to being siblings without actually living together. When Marge and Homer took a trip to China, they asked me if I would be willing to take the girls if something were to happen to them. We've been neighbors for over 7 years and been through a lot together in that time. Homer has a brother named A. And in over 7 years and lots of alcohol consumption, I had never met this guy. Odd, don't ya think? Anyhoo, I've heard stories about him and his kids and the divorce as well as the subsequent women he dated. The most recent one was a sweet school teacher who seemed to fall a little short on the personality scale. Because of this, A decided to leave the woman at home and bring his cousin as his "date" to Jimmy Buffett. In fact, before the concert I was warned that the Buffett party was pretty much a meat market. BEWARE, what happens at Buffett STAYS at Buffet. Those are the rules. Got it? Good.
At the concert pre-party I finally met A and 20 more of Marge and Homer's closest friends and family. That's when the drinking began. Shortly after that things became a blur of tits and ass. None of which were mine, thankyouverymuch. Sassy's hooters do not need to be broadcast across the jumbotron while Jimmy sings Lets Get Drunk and Screw. I'm just sayin. When I began to feel like a bobblehead doll riding on the Tea Cups despite the fact that I do have bones in my neck and there were no Tea Cups I decided it was time to lie down. As I was attempting to nap off the affects of lime flavored vodka the bed shifted under me, for reals this time. I squinted open my eyes and there was A with a cheesy drunk smile on his face. Now, remember that I was well schooled in the rules of Buffett. While open to a bit of smooching, I had no allusions that this would last beyond the gates of drunky-town. Well smooching and puking. Yeah, I said it. Gross right? Here's where I'm going to gross you out even more. He kissed me before and after I blew chunks all over the bathroom of his parents RV. See, that's another reason that what happens at Buffett STAYS at Buffett. Who wants to remember they did shit like that?
Apparently A wanted to remember. As I was nursing a queasy stomach Sunday morning and filling Ex in on all the vomitous details of the night - Just as I was explaining that I think I might have actually liked A if we could have met under less GirlsGoneWild circumstances but meh, those are the breaks and at least I got to enjoy some of the best kissing ever - bleep bleep bleep. A Text. From A. He said "I just told theteacherwithnopersonality that I don't want to date her anymore. I was hoping that you and I could go out. Would you be up for that?" BOGGLE. I couldn't stop laughing. Ex was making some rude comments about my vomit flavored love potion and I was trying not to shoot coffee out my nose from the hilarity. Apparently, I had accomplished the impossible. I had brought a little bit of Buffett home with me. And not the icky puss-filled herpes kind either. You just know that some girls are going to find they brought that back from Buffett -because that shit follows you everywhere. No, this was the really cute architect with yummy kisses kind.
Later that day we did a family BBQ/Bonfire/Hottub thing with all the kids over at Marge and Homer's house. Miracle of miracles, even sober he is still really cute and the kisses are still really yummy.
I'll let you know how the weekend goes. Hopefully by Monday night I'll have a name for him.