Crispy's Corner

I went out this past Saturday to an “All White Affair” meaning that everyone has to come dressed in white. I’m not a fan of white clothes; I don’t mind tops but I hate wearing white bottoms. I had to go because it was my friend’s birthday so I spent most of last week trying to find affordable white clothing that I might actually wear again.

All that trouble and the party was boring. It was marketed to be “mature” and “upscale” so most of the people there were too busy posing and frontin’ rather than trying to have fun. Or maybe they just didn’t want to get their white clothes dirty…

Then there was the guy that told me he was an “international stockbroker” and offered me drinks from the plethora of bottles at his table. I tried to make conversation by saying “maybe we can trade stock tips” to which he replied, “I’m an international stockbroker!!! I sell stocks in the US, Canada…etc etc.” I can’t remember all the countries. He also showed me this HUMONGOUS bottle of Belevedere that I guess they were saving for later because it was under the table. I didn’t even know they sold them that big! He told me he had a place down on the waterfront and offered to take me out on his jetski but…. I didn’t believe him. I declined the drinks but got a bottle of water instead.

Then, the girls and I went outside for a bit. Even though nobody was dancing much, it was still hot as hell inside. My damn heel kept going through the wood floors out on the patio, between the wood pieces. It’s hard to do a cute walk when I’m tiptoeing across the patio

I guess somebody thought I was cute because I was standing there minding my own business when I felt something slither around my waist. I looked to my left to see this creepy dude attempt to give me come hither eyes while beckoning me to come over with his finger. I was already in a pissy mood since I wasn’t having much fun so I gave him my “have you lost your damn mind” look and turned away to tell my friend. We both turned back and laughed as he slithered away. I know, it’s mean but really… how was he really expecting to me to react? Am I supposed to just run over and be like “Here I am! Thanks for molesting me!”

Next weekend is Canada Day long weekend and I will NOT be going to any clubs.