Saint Patrick's Day
My friends Cole and Crystal came by last night and picked me up for a St. Paddy’s day celebration. We went to T-Bomb’s, a local bar here in Richmond, to have a pitcher of green beer. It was packed, so I held the girls’ hands and forced my way through the crowd. We saw our buddy Jonathan and while I stood there talking to him and guarding our spot, the girls went to get the beer.
As I lounged in the doorway, people were brushing by on their way to and from the bar. Normally people are leery of getting too close to me and I usually have a clear zone around me; however, in this case it was so crowded and people were so drunk that I was getting bumped and brushed almost continually.
Imagine my shock, as I was standing there, to feel a hand cup my privates and give a gentle squeeze! Several people were edging by me at that point, including a guy and girl who were obviously together. By the time I felt the contact, it was over, so I don’t know who did it, or even their gender! I felt it was either the girl or the guy who had been closest in the crush; but what to do? I didn’t feel that I could just walk over to them and say, "Excuse me; which one of you was it that just groped me?" If it was the girl, I would have gotten her in trouble with her date. If it was the guy, I would have gotten him in trouble with his date. Not to mention that, while I’m not homophobic, I am totally straight. In the end I decided it was best not to know, since it was probably alcohol-induced anyway. I preferred to assume it was the girl, and let it go at that. It was the most contact I’ve had in a while, anyway!
A few minutes later, while I was mulling the whole "squeeze play" over in my mind, the girls came back with a couple of pitchers and a couple of drinks. We drank and talked and listened to some very bad drunken karaoke. There was a guy wandering around, obviously very drunk; I had noticed that his balance was a little off. I had also noticed him eying the girls I was with. Not just them; he was eying every girl who crossed his line of sight. Of course, I WAS with two of the cutest girls in the place. I caught his eye and warned him off a couple of times, but he was so drunk he couldn’t take the hint. I’m VERY protective of my friends.
The girls went off to socialize, and this guy, staggering around, bumps into me, causing me to spill a little beer. This, as we all know, is alcohol abuse. I turned to the guy and suggested he find somewhere else to stagger. He stared owlishly, and wandered off. A couple minutes later, and he stumbles into my table, nearly causing a whole pitcher of beer to fall to the floor. A whole pitcher! Even now, my hands shake at the thought.
I suggested a little louder that maybe he should find some other part of the bar to hang out in. He mumbled an apology and drifted away. As I raised the cup to my lips, someone crashed into my shoulders with such force that half the beer in my cup was flung onto the floor. Arising in a righteous rage, I spun to find--yep, you guessed it--this same guy standing there with a sheepish expression on his face.
I was only slightly taller than him, but more heavily built--he couldn’t have weighed much over 160. Apparently the alcohol had him convinced that he’d grown, though, because he jabbed at my chest and told me to sit back down in a loud, slurred and drunken voice. I grabbed his thumb, gave it a sharp twist, held it there and told him that if he came anywhere near me again, I was going to break it off and lodge it in an improbable place for him. At that point he left, and I didn’t see him again. For about 10 or 15 minutes after that, girls (and very drunk girls they were, too, most of them) were coming up to me, hugging me and thanking me for getting rid of him. I felt like such a hero!
Afterward, Crystal went home and Cole and I went to her apartment and sat around talking to her roommate Charles and his girlfriend Andrea. Our friend James was there too. I finally came home around 5 AM. Happy St. Patrick’s day!
As I lounged in the doorway, people were brushing by on their way to and from the bar. Normally people are leery of getting too close to me and I usually have a clear zone around me; however, in this case it was so crowded and people were so drunk that I was getting bumped and brushed almost continually.
Imagine my shock, as I was standing there, to feel a hand cup my privates and give a gentle squeeze! Several people were edging by me at that point, including a guy and girl who were obviously together. By the time I felt the contact, it was over, so I don’t know who did it, or even their gender! I felt it was either the girl or the guy who had been closest in the crush; but what to do? I didn’t feel that I could just walk over to them and say, "Excuse me; which one of you was it that just groped me?" If it was the girl, I would have gotten her in trouble with her date. If it was the guy, I would have gotten him in trouble with his date. Not to mention that, while I’m not homophobic, I am totally straight. In the end I decided it was best not to know, since it was probably alcohol-induced anyway. I preferred to assume it was the girl, and let it go at that. It was the most contact I’ve had in a while, anyway!
A few minutes later, while I was mulling the whole "squeeze play" over in my mind, the girls came back with a couple of pitchers and a couple of drinks. We drank and talked and listened to some very bad drunken karaoke. There was a guy wandering around, obviously very drunk; I had noticed that his balance was a little off. I had also noticed him eying the girls I was with. Not just them; he was eying every girl who crossed his line of sight. Of course, I WAS with two of the cutest girls in the place. I caught his eye and warned him off a couple of times, but he was so drunk he couldn’t take the hint. I’m VERY protective of my friends.
The girls went off to socialize, and this guy, staggering around, bumps into me, causing me to spill a little beer. This, as we all know, is alcohol abuse. I turned to the guy and suggested he find somewhere else to stagger. He stared owlishly, and wandered off. A couple minutes later, and he stumbles into my table, nearly causing a whole pitcher of beer to fall to the floor. A whole pitcher! Even now, my hands shake at the thought.
I suggested a little louder that maybe he should find some other part of the bar to hang out in. He mumbled an apology and drifted away. As I raised the cup to my lips, someone crashed into my shoulders with such force that half the beer in my cup was flung onto the floor. Arising in a righteous rage, I spun to find--yep, you guessed it--this same guy standing there with a sheepish expression on his face.
I was only slightly taller than him, but more heavily built--he couldn’t have weighed much over 160. Apparently the alcohol had him convinced that he’d grown, though, because he jabbed at my chest and told me to sit back down in a loud, slurred and drunken voice. I grabbed his thumb, gave it a sharp twist, held it there and told him that if he came anywhere near me again, I was going to break it off and lodge it in an improbable place for him. At that point he left, and I didn’t see him again. For about 10 or 15 minutes after that, girls (and very drunk girls they were, too, most of them) were coming up to me, hugging me and thanking me for getting rid of him. I felt like such a hero!
Afterward, Crystal went home and Cole and I went to her apartment and sat around talking to her roommate Charles and his girlfriend Andrea. Our friend James was there too. I finally came home around 5 AM. Happy St. Patrick’s day!