Dirty Whore

March 2009

K-Ho was home for spring break and we went to Hoppe’s for some drinks. Well we had so much fun that when Justin Bobby was shutting down afterhours, K-Ho and I were so drunk that we had no way of getting home. Well one of Justin Bobby’s friends, Alex, offered to let us crash at his place. Alex was a guy I hooked up with last summer, it was one of those things that went nowhere and we were better off for it. I thought it was cool of him to let us stay over. I was drunk out of my mind, there was no way K-Ho and I would have made it anywhere if Alex hadn’t driven us.

We all watched tv for a bit, K-Ho was having some problems so we put her to sleep in Alex’s bed. I crawled in with her when Alex told me to come back out and chill some more. I said that I would be asleep because I was so tired and I thought that was the end of it. I was almost sleeping when I heard my phone ring. It was still outside in the tv room, so I got up to answer it. That’s when Alex pounced on me and the next thing I know, clothes are coming off both parties.

We started getting into the rhythm of things when it got fucking weird for me. As you know, I’m not a big fan of talking during sex. This guy starts saying shit like, “You dirty whore. You’re my dirty whore, aren’t you? You’re such a naughty little girl, you like it don’t you? You like the way I’m fucking you.” And then he would smack my face. HE SMACKED MY FACE WHILE HE CALLED ME A DIRTY WHORE! Now I love spanking. The sting of someone’s hand on my ass as he’s pounding me from behind, that’s hot. But to have someone love tap me on the face?? Fuck, I think I’d rather get a load blown all over it instead. I’ll be honest when I say that I’m used to hearing things like “You’re so hot” and “God, you’re so good at this” while fucking. I was completely willing to overlook the “dirty whore” and “naughty girl” comments, but when he touched my face I got fucking pissed.

Alex stopped briefly, he was overworking himself and needed to grab some water. I saw this as an opportunity to go back to sleep. He watched me in disbelief from the kitchen as I put my clothes back on, and went back into his room to sleep with K-Ho. For future reference, don’t ever fucking touch my face during sex. If there’s a next time, I will rip the guy’s balls off.

Drunk Thoughts on Being Popular, Exotic, and Cute

Tweedle Dum was home for the weekend and as usual, we had problems trying to figure out where we should drink. Tweedle Dum likes to keep it local, as in the same town we live in, and won’t really venture outside. Then there’s me, I hate drinking in our hometown and I also hate drinking in the next town over. I like driving 20 minutes or more to get my drinking on. Tweedle Dum wanted to go somewhere we both hadn’t been and that’s pretty much impossible. Or so I thought. A new bar had opened up in Elgin and another one had undergone renovations with new owners. Well I won’t share my scathing reviews, but I was so disappointed that we left within the first 10 minutes at each bar and wound up at Hoppe’s.

Needless to say, I wasn’t that happy and even less so when I saw someone I went to high school with. I talked to Bad-Ass after we left. This is one of the happier conversations I’ve put him through.

Lynx: “Ran into some bitch from high school. I hate it. She was one of those preppy popular bitches. She was fucking anorexic and you know what, she’s still anorexic! There were two different popular cliques and I was not in her camp. The other group, those girls were more down to earth and that’s why I liked them.”

Bad-Ass: “Okay…”

Lynx: -still rambling- “I wasn’t an outcast and I wasn’t in the in-crowd although I did party with them occasionally. There’s two kinds of popular. There’s the one where everyone knows you cuz you’re friendly and the one where you’re in that core of ‘it’ kids. I was definitely the first one. And yet all these bitches thought I was a threat. I don’t get it.”

Bad-Ass: “I do, but you’re drunk. You’re exotic and cute.”

Lynx: “No seriously, I’m not exotic and I’m not super cute.”

Bad-Ass: “Now you’re just fishing for compliments! I can’t even reason with you.”

Lynx: “I’m not fucking kidding!! I don’t have small eyes and I’m not feminine!!”

Bad-Ass: “Well I would bone you in a heartbeat but you won’t listen to me. Give me a call in the morning and then I can talk to you.”

Red-Headed What?

I’m going to give you the rundown of a typical night for me and K-Ho at Hoppe’s. We come in, order drinks, Justin Bobby makes us do shots/shooters of something that will always make me puke, we do girl talk and chat with some of the regulars, Big Pete the bouncer/doorman/security/family friend will give me $5 to go play music in the jukebox and we stay for afterhours.

The other night K-Ho and her roommates came out from NIU to drink at Hoppe’s. Justin Bobby promised Three Olives girls but when they showed up, there were no Three Olive girls to be found. They managed to still get free shirts out of it from Justin Bobby’s mom. In a rare outing, which hopefully will not be the last, G-Spot came out to drink with us.

G-Spot and I were conversing when all of a sudden I hear one of the regulars shout something that made no sense.

Regular: “Any bald red-headed pussies in here?!”
Lynx: “What the…isn’t that an oxymoron?”
Regular: “What?”
Lynx: “How can you be a red-headed pussy if you’re bald!”
Regular: -looks at me like I’m the dumbass- “Bald red-headed pussies!”

And as he usually does, G-Spot sought to bring humor to the situation since the drunk regular was rather upset I didn’t like his statement. G-Spot pulled a line from 40 Year Old Virgin and it sure made the drunk regular smile.

G-Spot: “Hey I’m sorry, the bitch is running wild! I need to put her on a leash!”

The Night the Cubs Lost in the Playoffs

Early October 2008

I’ve been pretty hardcore about wanting to go to law school. In the many titles I have read in preparation for law school, they have all made note of how legal speak/legal thinking began taking over their lives. It even found its way into their relationships. While I have yet to begin law school, I wanted to show you an instance in which it crept into my everyday life (this was only based off a few undergraduate law classes, a moot court competition, plus the insight of a former Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor, the best selling author Scott Turow, a recent law school graduate Rick Lax, and an unidentified Philadelphia lawyer).

K-Ho and I were supposed to meet up with Junior and his bro-mate in Chicago during the Cubs playoff. The first stop on our trip was Hoppe’s. We wanted to do a little pre-gaming and then we managed to talk Justin Bobby into leaving work and going to Wrigleyville with us! Apparently everyone thought we were crazy for trying to go to the city during this time (they were afraid of riots and mobs), but we thought this would be a great opportunity to party! Me and K-Ho always have a good time in Wrigleyville. We stopped at Justin Bobby’s parents’ liquor store to stock up on drinking materials. Unfortunately for me, I was driving so I couldn’t partake in the Red Bull and Svedka drinks.

By the time we were in the outskirts of the city, we all had an urge to piss. When we hit the general vicinity of where we were meeting up with Junior, we REALLY needed to piss. As luck would have it, there was a 7-Eleven within sight. I pulled in and prayed to God that there was an open restroom for public use.

NOPE!

Clerk: “There is only an employee bathroom. I cannot let you use it. We could be sued if you slip and fall.”

At this point any normal person would have either gotten back into their car or continued to beg, but here’s what I did:

Lynx: “I will make a verbal contract with you absolving you of any liability. Please! I need to piss! We have witnesses to testify!”
Clerk: -still unsure- “We are not supposed to let anyone use the bathroom.”
Lynx: “I promise you I won’t sue! I’m going to law school, I swear I know how this works. I’ll even write it down on a piece of paper, we can do a written contract! I’ll write this shit out.”

He was probably thinking it was some bullshit ploy. I started opening my purse to dig around, to prove to this guy that I was serious. I had the verbage flowing through my head.

“In the year of our lord…anno domini…I, Natty Lynx, on my way to see the Cubs most likely lose the playoffs, will, despite the blatant dangers, use the 7-Eleven restroom facilities and should I slip and fall and harm my body in a manner that is life threatening or in a way which requires immediate medical attention, will not file a suit on grounds of negligence against the 7-Eleven establishment on the corner of Clark Street and Southport Avenue, located in Chicago, Illinois. I will not seek compensation for my injury. This 7-Eleven establishment and its employees shall not be held responsible and I have been made fully aware of the risks I am about to undertake in using the restroom facilities. I hereby absolve this 7-Eleven establishment of any liability.”

But before I could get my pen out, the guy buckled and let us use the bathroom. We met up with Junior at Southport Lanes just in time to see the Cubs lose. I got to see some random drunk girl cry over this. And I wanted to smack the shit out of her!