This is for Fritz - I

Since I have had no cool dating stories lately, I am only dating one cool fabulous guy, I thought I'd dig up a story from my past.

Mr. P - for Pity
A couple of years ago a friend of mine wanted me to go with her to see a band she was friends with. To get me into the show (I was underage) we told the guy at the door I was the singer's girlfriend, and had the singer do the same. I got in, and the band was very good. I thought the signer was kinda cute in a Bob Dylan-ish way, and had no problem flirting with him and pretending to be his girl for the night.

After this my friend and I hung out with the signer and his roommate, who she was dating, a few times. At their place or ours. One night she and I were hanging out drinking, just having a good time at home when Mr. P called and asked if he could come over. He did, and promptly drank every last drop of alcohol in our house. He was smashed, and with eyes closed, and head lifted and tilted to one side slurred an endless string of compliments. "Q, your ssssso cooool. And ssssssso, p-ppretty." Finally my friend went to bed and left me to deal with the drunk musician.

My intrigue had died when I learned a few things about Mr. P. One, he smelled bad all of the time. I learned this rather quickly. He had no real job, though he had a degree. The best part yet? At 27 he was living off of an allowance his parents were giving him.

After three hours Mr. P was finally sober at 6 am. I had to be at work at 9am, and hadn't caught a wink yet. I walked him out to his car. "Good night, Mr. P. Be careful driving home." FOR FUCK'S SAKE GO HOME I WANT TO SLEEP. Mr. P looked at me solemnly, "I would sell my soul to kiss you right now." I sighed. "Trust me, Mr. P, it's not worth it. Good night," and I turned around and walked back into my house. Leaving him in the driveway.