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R.B. Winters
R.B. Winters
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Happy 4th of July to everyone! I’ve celebrated twice this week, which means I’ll be staying home tonight to recover.
Candy Mountain and I ventured out to metro once again for drinks and pool. I was about three beers in when I realized that my PBR (Poor Bitch Rum) was only $2! I knew it was cheap, but in all the time I’ve been drinking it there, I had no idea what a deal it was. In an effort to get my money’s worth, I started double fisting them (no gay jokes on the fisting). That’s when Candy Mountain started talking to some girl alone by the pool table.
It took probably two seconds before I hijacked my new Lesbi-Friend from him. I’m a big fan of the vagina club, and when there’s a non-flannel-pennis-approving-lesbian around… I wanna play with her! My Lesbi-Friend scored major points when she mentioned PBR was her favorite beer. Also, she lives on the Lower East Side and was escaping the city for Brooklyn. I first asked if she was lost, but loved her for loving the BK.
The three of us played pool, Lesbi and I drank ourselves happy, and then Candy Mountain and I left. We left our new friend in the hands of some very interesting looking lesbians. It’s interesting that lesbians tend to play more heterosexual roles; one is usually lipstick and the other butch. Gay couples seem to be paired with guys just like them: flaming for flaming, butch for butch, and bitch for little bitch. 
Night two brought me to The Animator and his friend Brian. Maybe it’s our similar names, but this guy just didn’t click with me. Other than the fact that he was on the prowl for some penis, he was a tad overly bitchy (which I would know something about). However, we made our way over to The Ritz, where I started drinking and they continued.
I don’t like being behind on the drinking game. In order for me to catch up, I pounded the beer The Animator handed me and snuck away to find another. Four more beers and several jello shots had me in that happy place everyone likes to go. You know, the one where you either turn into the depressed suicidal person, or the infectiously happy person. I also don’t like being the least slutty person in the crowd. I’d much rather be the drunken girl that smokes the wrong end of a cigarette and knows this song is totally about her. 
The issue I was having was my backpack. It weighed a ton and there was no coat check because I’m the only person that carries their life around in a bag out of fear it will be stolen from their apartment. With my bag on I flipped my shirt over my head, beer in hand, I moved to the dance floor. I love the attention people give you when they think there’s the chance you might be drunk enough for them to have a shot at taking you home. Delusion is pretty.
The Animator and I left his friend, who was still searching for that special penis to sit on, hopping on the train. I didn’t realize how late it was until I got off the train and the sun was up. That’s how I know I had a good time. Love that Brooklyn sunrise.