Monday, 12 December 2011


So last night had to be, hands down, the oddest "skelteton's out of the closet"-esque night of my life.

It started very normally, dinner at an average Italian spot with Amelie, average drinks at a local dive, no real solid plans to get the evening going.

Amelie and I chose this bar called Tile to grab a couple of after dinner drinks. We were making loose conversation when she noticed I kept staring at this blond woman in the corner of ther bar. Fearing I'd gone off to the other team, she asked me why I was staring at her. I told her I knew that girl's face from somwhere but couldn't place it, and it was bugging me. Then a few minutes later it hit me

****DISCLAIMER**** (I am a good girl. I have never, "gone wild", everything below this disclaimer are random events that may look like I am "wild", I beg your pardon, because I, am not wild, but very, very, tame.)

Several years ago, a good friend from high school that is rather well off, bet me that I wouldn't go into a strip bar and get a lap dance. Since he was paying and I was several drinks in, I took him up on that bet and went to Flashdancers in midtown and got a lapdance from a stripper. It was the most uncomfortable 3 minutes of my life, but he paid the $50 and I felt obliged to make small talk with the woman while she fake grinded on me. She was from Poland, had two older sisters, and was getting her medical degree.

She was also now sitting across the room from me and Amelie at Tile Bar. I never forget a face. I was 100% on this one.

What to do? How does one strike up that converstaion initially? Is it even polite to bring up a strippers past in a non strip setting? All these questions banged through my head as I attempted figure out if I would allow myself to puss out. I did.


So I puss out and leave Amelie at Tile to go uptown and meet James, my sometimes laywer and full time friend. We always meet at my old local, Deac's, where I have met some of my closest NYC friends. Always good people, and tonight they were giving away the Christmas party invitations, so it started out great.

I begin to tell James my tale of running into the lap dance woman when my cell rings. Its my friend from high school that paid for the lapdance that night. I hadn't spoken to him in 8 months, now ironically as I am in the middle of the story about the stripper he provided, he calls. He is visiiting NYC and only 3 blocks away. So of course he joins us and the night gets weirder.

I SHOULD HAVE TURNED OFF MY CELL AT THIS POINT, enjoyed the good company and music, and left it at that. But no, I had to keep recieving calls.

A few hours and several drinks later, the phone. On it? An OLD friend from college that once again I have not spoken to in 4 years (happens to be in NYC) and says this to me.

"Ang, I can't really talk, but I have one thing to ask you.
Do you want to be in a three way with me and a hot Spanish man right now? Because if you're game for it, it can happen, now. Just come meet us in Brooklyn."

after picking my chin off the floor I reply...

"C'mon, it'll be a blast. We can catch up, you know, have the threesome, and you can meet "Oscar", my fiance."


"Oh, and how's your mom doing? Ok fine, call me tomorrow, lets discuss this during daylight hours".


I walk back into the bar and NO ONE believes me. All the men urge me to call her back and meet her, all the women think after hearing both stories, that I am a closet lesbo. I can't explain well enough that I didn't enjoy that lap dance, and hello, I just declined the three way. Its just not computing.
So I called it a night. Went home, hid under the covers and prayed that freaky friday only happens once every 4 years, kinda like Election tuesday.

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