good company

Evidently, meeting gentlemen at the bars whose atmosphere I enjoy results in company that affords the following conversations:

"I think you're totally adorable."
"Aw, thank you."
"Are you into orgasms?"
"Excuse me?"
"Because I'm into giving you orgasms."
"I'm sorry?"
"I could totally give you the craziest orgasms. I could like, blow your mind."
"Um, I'm going to visit the ladies' room."


"You seem like you have a white-collar job."
"I totally do. Um, what do you do?"
"I'm a waiter at Little Star."
"Oh, that's cool."
"I'm totally into the fact that you have like a real job and I'm a rock and roller. I think we would work that way."
"You mean because I could buy you drinks and stuff?"
"I mean, that too, but that's not all of it."


"Um, excuse me, I was wondering."
"Yes?"
"Does wearing long earrings like, bother you? Because they're hitting your neck all the time?"
"No, not really, they're really light. You get used to it. They're fun."
"I want to see what you look like without them."
"Okay."
"You look cute with and without earrings. Do you live in the neighborhood?"
"Yeah, I live about a 15 min walk."
"We work at Whole Foods tomorrow. You should come by and like, buy some asparagus. It's only 39 cents a pound! That's all I've been living on all week!"


Additionally, was walked halfway home by a hairstylist from Marin who referred to me as "pretty girl," and is proud owner of 30 freaky tattoos, that all looked at me simultaneously, saying, "You look like you have a white-collar job."