Just Call Me B.B.

Yes, I am the Beer Bitch. The Beer Bitch on call to boot. I was hanging out at The Darkside on Friday night with the NB who tells me he's going home...alone. I stay and hang a little then decide to head home an eat some friggin pasta. As my car coasts into the driveway my phone begins to ring. It's the NB, he wants me and 2 six-packs at his house ASAP. I turn the car around, hit the bar, get mocked by my friends who know where I'm headed as soon as I say "2 sixes of Bud to go" (hey, I'm a Mic Lite girl cause I'm a Mick lite).

So I take my ribbing and head out with the brew. The door is open, I head up the stairs and find the NB half passed out on the couch. I'm putting the beer in the fridge when his nibs comes over and starts hanging on me telling me what an ass he is for making me deliver beer....and then he asks the magic question: Why do you do this stuff for me?

Well kids, I answered honestly and loudly, "Because I'm your bitch!!!"

Then I went home.

Now, the funny (a.k.a. assinine) part is that last night I got another call - I was still at the bar then - and I went. When I asked for the beer...from my fave male bartender (hey, Jo Gina and Angela are my girls!!) he called me out...yes, he dubbed me B.B. - the Beer Bitch. Just the same, off I went only to find that SMF, who I have now renamed SMS (Single Male Stalker), is chillin' on the NB's couch. Now it took a while but I froze him out of the apartment...or so I thought.

Imagine with me the scene: NB and I alone, kissing, cuddling, talking, possible moving toward knocking boots when Lo! the NB's Nextel goes off and it's SMS. SMS tells him that he's just getting ready to pour a Gran Marnier and hop in the hot tub then he's off to bed. They hang up and like clockwork 1 minute later my phone rings - SMS. I tell him in no uncertain terms that I am still sitting where he left me on the NB's couch and that I fully intended to stay put. Using his magical power to tune me out he said he'd leave the door open so I could "surprise" him.

I didn't get laid.

By anyone.

Again.

Anywho, to end things on a good note I have to mention that I had a spectacular Saturday with Jo Gina which commenced around 12:30 in the afternoon and involved the two of us, alone in the bar, drinking, eating, bonding, smoking and drinking a lot more. I had a fucking blast! As a testament to my stamina I proceeded to stay until 11pm-ish. Hey, it was Bartender Booty night... what's a girl to do?