DRunk Post!

So I’m here for the show. That last post wasn’t supposed to post since I tried to save the draft when my coworker came to get me for breakfast, but I checked the blog and lo and behold,there it was. Sorry for the boring post. It wasn’t finished.

The show has been non-eventful, other than many, many, many middle aged overweight men staring at my breasts as they walk by. It’s very obvious and annoying, but I get the opportunity to pitch my company and product so maybe I can actually convert some sales out of it. It’s a security show so it’s mostly ex-military/law enforcement people and salesmen/computer programmers. For some reason, they act starved for the sight of women.

I was accused of being standoffish and non-involved in social activities outside of work when it came to coworkers, so I headed to Pleasure Island with them to spend “quality time.” Pleasure Island is this area in Orlando that’s like Disneyland for adults. The last time I heard a place described as Disneyland for adults, it was a sex club in downtown Los Angels, where I ran into this guy I went on 1 date with. Totally awkward. And yes, I declined a 2nd date with him because he smelled funny. And then, here he was at a sex club, having sex with some fat chick in public.

But I digress.

For ab0ut $21, you get access to a handful of bars and clubs, as well as outdoor stages and entertainment. My coworker had his kids with him so we hung out in the general area, walking around and playing carnival games (I won his daughter a stuffed shark shooting hoops). I checked out this club called 8 Trak that was a 70s/80s danceclub, but it was so overflowed with people from the show (i.e. middle aged midwestern people grooving on the dancefloor in birkenstock/white socks ensembles), that I had to leave; the place was prime for people watching but a visual trainwreck. We walked around but truth be told, there really weren’t any good looking people or interesting enough things going on to not make us not want to get really drunk and go home. So I had my 3 Ketal One and RedBull and spent the rest of the night riding the Disneyland Shuttlebus, discussing with my playa coworker why he needs to be more of a player while he’s single.

Hate the game, not the player.

I’m going to go surf Craigslist for weed now.

Fucking peace, y’all.

I’m currently in Orlando, staying at one of the Disneyworld resorts where everything down to my bar of soap has a picture of Mickey on it. I’m here for a security trade show for work, and am still waiting for my coworkers to get ready. I was told we were meeting at 8am, so I pulled myself up at the west-coast buttcrack of dawn and waited, and waited, and waited, and finally woke them up at 8:20. Man, could have slept in an extra hour.

On the cab ride over to our hotel, we had this 60 year old Italian driver who loved to talk. He told us that he had an ex-wife, a wife and a girlfriend. I told him, I bet it sucks if your wife and girlfriend don’t get along. He said, if one of them don’t like it, who cares. If two of them don’t like it, you leave the city. If you got three women mad at you, you leave the country.

I met up with Muskrat and her husband One F last night and headed out to PF Chang’s. The Asian Pear Mojitos are awesome. It looks like married life is treating them well and they’re both a blast to be with. Sarah managed to bring up my junior high perm less than 10 times, and I’m proud of her for her restraint.