6.06.2005

Ye Olde Warehouse Party

I LOST MY CELL PHONE. PLEASE CALL ME AT MY NEW NUMBER: 415.370.0825 AND LEAVE YOUR NUMBER IN THE VOICEMAIL. THIS IS OF GREAT IMPORT.

But seriously guys, this party I went to was worth losing my phone--as was the one brief moment at about four in the morning when I turn a corner and make eye contact with the most beautiful bartender I've ever seen. I had been looking for him the whole night.

As he's walking over, Violet is next to me, hugging a half rack of MGD and squealing.
"You made it," he says, one hand on the small of my back, several inches of his 6'4" frame bent over and speaking into the crook of my neck, "There are so many people here, I can't believe I ran into you."
"Yeah, this party's great." This was my reply. This party's great? What? I'm fucking retarded.
"Cool leg warmers." he says, pinched my side, and walked away. After I realized I lost my phone, I found him again making out with some little blonde thing, and Violet and I drove back to the 'hood in the brightening daylight.

IT WAS AWESOME.

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