This one’s from August 27, 2016 in the heart of Ybor City, Florida. It’s near downtown Tampa and it’s where our locals go to destroy their livers and minds most weekends. Ironically, I was sober during my sojourn that evening… but crazy happens whether you’re prepared for it or not.
So, I got a girl’s number tonight. Don’t worry, kids… I’m still me, so this is not a good thing, but at least it’s somewhat interesting.
I was sitting like a gargoyle on my perch outside The Castle awaiting my pal to get done cavorting in the place, since they were pretty much closed. I was stoically smoking a cigarette, when my Drunkard Sense™ started beeping. I looked forward and noticed a very beautiful Cuban girl stumbling in various directions and singing to herself. I quickly averted my gaze, for you do not want to make eye contact with random drunk chicks. Trust me.
Unfortunately, I was the only soul outside the building, so she target-locked on me. I knew that it was too late, as her wobbling started to progress sort of towards me. “Oh, Boy…. here we go.” I thought.
She finally meandered in front of me, smiling the prettiest smile I’ve seen in years, and asked for a cigarette. Continuing to attempt to avoid eye contact, I obliged. She then slumped down beside me, used my knee as an arm rest and leaned against me as she puffed on her free cancer-stick. I’m apparently a very comfortable perch at 2:30 in the morning. We made small talk (VERY SMALL), and then she smiled again, stood up and said “OK, I’ve gotta go!”
I replied “Nice meeting you. Be safe.” She then smiled even wider, immediately dropped her pants and squatted beside me, smiling cheerily at me as this was occurring. I guess she really DID have to go. I’m not even remotely a gentleman, but I figured I didn’t want this little goofball to get busted, so I begrudgingly got up and stood in front of her while she watered the concrete. I looked back when the stream flowing on either side of me seemed to subside, and she smiled and gave me a thumbs up. I returned her one, because I guess that’s the polite thing to do in this sort of situation… not that this one really has any solutions listed in my Book of How To Deal With Weird Shit (I’ll be publishing it soon).
She asked if I wanted to get high. I said no. She asked if I wanted to get a drink. I told her I’ve quit. She asked what I DO actually like to do. I showed her my cigarette and said “These are all I have left. I’m really not that interesting.” She did not care. She then forced me to remember her phone number… at length. She was very insistent.
I repeated it, and asked her name… again, I guess I’m supposed to do that. Her name was (and probably still is) Ava. Nice name for a tanked girl, I suppose. I gave her mine and told her to have a good night. I’m a bastard, but I’m not a monster… this girl had to go home NOW.
Ava smiled and kissed me straight in the face, patted my chin and stumbled off into the parking area… and then started dancing and hollering “I got a man! I got a man!” That’s new.
After she stumbled towards the street, I shadowed her for a few minutes without her seeing me, as weeble-wobbly little Cubanas generally don’t dodge oncoming traffic well, but I really didn’t want to have to repeat her number or watch her pee again. Thankfully, I heard some of her friends call for her by name, saw her get in the car, so she was safe.
I returned to my perch, next to the fresh puddle of urine, sighed, and lit another smoke. Only in Ybor City. I don’t go looking for trouble… I really don’t. I don’t have to… it knows where I am at all times. Oh well…. I got kissed! Yay! And no, I’m not calling that ****ing number. I doubt I’ll ever forget it, though. 🙂
