Yayyyy Taco Tuesday!!

Or as I like to think of it,  #TequilaTuesday.   I’ve always enjoyed the taste of tequila, the excitement of downing shots as if there is no tomorrow. My girlfriends and I accepting the challenge of going brave or going home. My favorite is Herraduras. It’s something about how smooth it goes down. My teacher swore by it and I have to agree. That tequila has definitely got me into trouble… (cue the sparkle once upon a time sounds)

Well, here we were, Taco Tuesday. I was about three shots down when in walks my muse with his friends. A couple of them had on wedding bands. Chocolate Boy Wonder, was a god at the time turned demon and my now ex.  Although I don’t know if I can classify him as an ex per se.  A smash? A F#&k buddy? Bro? LOL You know there are simple rules to bar-tending. Know your liquors, make everyone feel like they’re special and DON’T (try not to) fuck the help. I got two out of three and a hard effort was put in. Gotta love my choice of words. So back to the man whose cock is imprinted on my soul. In he walked reminding me of Morris Chestnut in the movie Best Man.  I could’ve swore I even heard the Roots playing in the background. I didn’t know it the first time I met him, but this guy was the secret weapon in destroying my life.

The first time he came to my bar, I was nervous and not because I was fresh in. I had already gotten past the awkward breaking glass stage. It’s just that I had been out many times in Houston and had yet to see someone this fine without any hiccups. My definition of a hiccup? I’m glad you asked. Unemployment, a bm, a wife, a child, a children, a girlfriend or boyfriend, a fiance, or a “friend” which if you heard the Biz Markie song, you know it’s bullshit. There seemed to be a lot of “friend” relationships out here.  These women and men agree to a smash buddy union and have a great relationships in the bedroom. They go out on “friend dates” and if they get approached while out, they are allowed to give and or get the number in front of the other person as if they both wasn’t planning on having each other’s genitals in their mouth as soon as they get to their destination. I guess it’s exciting. You get jealous. You get angry. By the time you get to his house or hers, you’re ready to show them why they should delete that number or block whoever. It was the new wave of confusion that some welcomed because it was consistent and the closest thing to a relationship. I think this type of bullshit was dubbed “situationship“. According to Urbandictionary.com, a situationship is a relationship that has no label on it., like a friendship but more than a friendship but not quite a relationship. I’m going somewhere with this.

Anyway, I pretended to wipe glasses down and check my well. I needed anything to look like I wasn’t salivating over Chocolate Boy Wonder, but I didn’t want to look so busy that I wasn’t available. I still had a job to do and lusting after a dude wasn’t going to get these schools loans paid down. #Coins  We locked eyes and part of me was thinking of customer service and the other part was thinking tip, not money at all though.

“Two vodka lemonades and two orders of street tacos. Jalapenos on the side.” Jolted straight out of my vagina’s control, my regular placed his order. Same order, different date. He’s also cute. Great tipper. Loves Taco Tuesdays. I’ve never seen him on a date with the same woman. “I’ll have that right out for you, Jess.” I turn to get the glasses ready. Fill with ice, vodka, count it out, lemonade made by the house, shake, pour in glass. I placed his drinks down with coasters underneath.  Jess hands me the card to open up the tab. I head to the register then hand it back.

Chocolate Boy Wonder and his friends chose a table that wasn’t close to me.  He looked at me and smiled. Molly was already on it. I couldn’t stand her ass. She’s a cutie and knew it. She bounced around and wore a high ponytail that matched her rhythm when she’s glided on the floor.  There was a bunch of  people there. Girls darting eyes at every fresh piece of eggplant that walked in. They had a good amount to choose from so my dude was off limits, but of course their eyes were fixated on his table. That was our busy night fresh into the week. On Tuesdays people are getting over the shock of manic Monday and accepting that there are two things that can help you get over a drab beginning of a work week.

Molly comes with the order. “Someone is interested in you.” My ears perked.

“Who?” Please don’t let it be anyone but him.

“The cute guy sitting with his friend.”

“Which one Molly? Kind of more than one there, you know.”

“The one with the grey button up.” Score!

“He’s okay.” Lies help people from being in your business. “Well, let’s see if he shoots his shot.”

“You’re probably going to act like you’re not interested anyway. You know how you like to stop them before they can enter.”

“Yea, not really interested in wasting my walls on people I can’t build with.”  I know you have no problem with that I think. I tried to hide the sly grin but I’m no actress.

“I get it. But all the cute ones that come in here try and fail with you.”

“I don’t think this one will. Something feels different.”

Girls are bold here. Surprising for me at first, but nowadays women shoot their shot. I don’t. I liked to be pursued. I give off hints, little clues.  I act shy, innocent on some days. Other days I can be a complete savage wasting no time and going after what I want. That night I felt like it would be the perfect time to. It was late and Chocolate Boy Wonder and his friends had been hit on all night. The chicks even bought them a round. He and the crew he came with get up and get ready to leave. Some are alone. I can’t tell if he is. It’s a crowd of both girls and guys, no even number and no one locked in arms. I could’ve assumed, but I chose not to. He comes to the bar, hands me a tip and his business card.  I read it. His name is Miles Hansom. He is a Senior Project Manager at a construction company in Houston.

“Text me your number.” Ummmm, yeah dude, who do you think I am?

“So, I’m not sensing southern gentleman. You hand me a card and tell me text you. Where’s the formal introduction? Where are your manners?” I pretend to want to give the card back.

“You’re right. I apologize. My name is Miles. I would like to make sure you get home safely. What time do you close?”

“Yo, Miles. We’ll be outside.” Great! That means anyone that thought she was going to leave with him is mistaken.

“Eleven fifteen.” He looks at his watch. Good taste.

“I guess I’ll be right outside. So, twenty minutes and you’re all mine?”

“Cute.” Hopefully I thought. “Twenty minutes and we see what happens.”

“Cool. What’s your name?”

“Molly told you, I’m sure. I’ll see you in nineteen minutes. Miles.”

 

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