DILF.
Hot Rod.
Upstairs at the Shift.
All in all I’d had a fun night, surrounded by hotties.
But ‘twas time for a root.
So down I went.
Downstairs, that is.
And downhill, too I suppose.
The street level Shift offering a less attractive, and more available man.
Which as I said, really appeals to my laziness.
I also like to be the pretty one.
And the strategy seemed to work.
He eyed me up & down as soon as I walked in.
He had a geeky Balkan look about him.
Smiled shyly.
I gave short smile back.
Thinking: “I can do better than that, but such immediate response is encouraging nonetheless.”
As my double vodka tonic in a short glass was nearing empty @geeky_balkan came up to me:
“What are you drinking? Can I buy you another one?”
In hard-to-identify-accent.
Gave him my best supermodel-trying-not-to-offend-the-ugly-suitor look and said: “Thank you, but I’m fine.”
I smiled as warmly as I know how.
He just shrugged and walked away.
I then went to the bar, ordering the same again, @geeky_balkan watching me all the way.
Instead of returning to my stool, I did several very slow laps of the bar.
Then the front bar.
The dancefloor.
Crowd was thinning.
And the pickings were slim.
Try the smoking area.
Nothing like an overcrowded contained space with strangers asking each other for ciggies and lights for getting lucky.
To no avail.
Two cigarettes later and my second drink down I went back inside.
It was really emptying out.
But @geeky_balkan was still there.
Still watching.
If I hadn’t have been pissed and high I would have found it creepy.
But it seemed to be all I was getting.
And as I looked around at the dispersing and uninterested crowd I realised he was my only hope.
So I went back in there.
“Actually I will take you up on your offer of a drink, thank you. Double vodka tonic in a short glass.”
#DNA Magazine
@urban_homo_dna
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