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Wednesday, July 28, 2010

RJ's Bar & Grill... just south of Clearwater Beach...

One early evening I settled into a bar stool for a cold one and some grub... On the menu were inexpensive burgers and fries along with 10once draft beers which went for but a buck a piece. So that's what I ordered so that I wouldn't burn another hole in my wallet.

Scattered throughout the bar were but a few patrons sipping on a beverage while looking up at the flat screen featuring FOX Fabrication News Network bullsh*t when in strolls this scrawny chick who then proceeds to sit alongside of me.

Before long we're both commenting on how hot it is outside and whatnot when the emaciated chick places her dinner order along with a glass of merlot. She proceeds to tell me that she will die if she doesn't eat. Somehow I'm now thinking that she literally means it, and I believe her, that's how bones and skin she looks.

Soon after, the most succulent plate of prime rib, twice baked potatoes, and steamed brocoli is placed before her and she proceeds to devour every morsel of that mouth watering juicy steak and then wash it down with yet a second glass of merlot all the while explaining that she will be competing in triathlon event in Pensacola in another three weeks. I then suggest that she better verify whether the event will indeed be held because of the film of oil on the surface of the water. After a moment of confusion, she says "oh".

Somehow the conversation now shifts gears and suddenly I'm being subjected to hearing all about her business travels throughout Paris, and London, and Prague, and Milan and who knows where else throughout Europe. I'm getting heavily scoreboarded but what the heck... it's a bar.

It then occurs to me that the burger that I ate awhile back somehow isn't really agreeing with me when to my astonishment, the scrawny chick casually and expectantly asks me "Will you buy me another glass of wine?" After a momentary WTF moment on my part I emphatically respond, "What? Are you broke? Did you run out of money? I was hoping you'd buy me dinner."

Hell no am I buying you a glass of wine and hell no am I going home with you and hell no did I believe any of your bullsh*t. I've got you figured out.

She soon turns her attention to this old, chain-smoking, emaciated geezer seated down the bar and I later observe them leaving the bar together not that it mattered any to me.

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