The Worst Way To Start an Evening/Über-Hot and Sweet Shot Girl

First girl I talk to tonight.

She’s a shot girl; her and her attractive friend are being paid to hock some spirit at bars around town.

She stops to talk to me and my friend. She’s about 20; a student nurse who’s doing promotions to top up her pay. She’s wearing a slinky blue promotions dress that leaves very little to the imagination.

Her night is going slowly. She’s bored. My wing makes brief conversation with her friend, she talks to me.

We have a lot in common. We talk about work, studies, and have a great connection. Suddenly my friend turns up, with a friend in tow I haven’t seen in two years; I tell her I have to talk to my friend, we smile and part ways.

During my conversation with my friends I turn back – she fixes me with eyes that melt my soul, and a big smile. Come talk to me. She likes me. I like her.

Here it starts to go wrong. By the time I make it back to the table, they’ve been moved on by her Supervisor. We settle at the table, and at one point she walks by. I don’t stop her to continue the conversation.

As we leave, I want to find her. Too late bro. The window closes.

This fucks up my night. My desire to spark a conversation with some random tubby drunkard in the club is tempered by the knowledge that the hottest (and sweetest) girl I was likely to meet that night I’d already met. And wasted a golden opportunity with. I stalled. I staled. Night = wasted.

There’s a lesson to be learnt from this, but right now Im far too angry to learn it. Fuck sake.

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