and kept telling me how much she missed me since I started training. I made a mental note to make a better effort to balance training and fun.
The DJ played all our favorite songs, so Addison and I danced together with only a few men trying to break up our duo. But we had the girls’ night vibe going on, so most men watched from afar and bought us drinks when we took a break.
During one breather, a very tall, dark, and handsome guy approached me.
“Hello there, beautiful, can I buy you a drink?” He looked edible.
“Sure. What’s your name?” I craned my neck to stare into his chocolate brown orbs.
“Dave. What’s yours?” His voice was husky and deep in my ear when he bent down so I could hear him.
“Alexa.”
“What’s your poison, pretty girl?” He snapped at the bartender to grab his attention and grew irritated when he didn’t rush to our end of the bar.
Strike one.
“I’d love a Sweetini. Thank you.” I smiled up at him. “Tell me about yourself.”
“I’m a financial advisor for a Fortune 500 company.” His eyes narrowed as he searched behind the bar. “And I’m going to buy and sell this shit hole if the bartender doesn’t get his ass down here this second.” He slammed his hand down on the bar, rattling the empty glasses nearby.
Strike two.
“He’ll get here when he has a second. No need to get upset,” I said, hoping to calm him down.
“I don’t wait for anyone. Want to get out of here, Lexie? I can make us drinks at my place quicker than this fool.”
Strike three.
“No, thank you. I think I’ve heard enough. Have a great night.” I walked away without a drink, but more importantly, I walked away from a pompous prick.
After the exchange with Dave, I brushed off any other man’s attempt to talk to me. I was more than happy to remain single if guys like him made up the dating pool.
Around midnight, my feet were killing me, and I needed food. And there was no better neighborhood to get good eats. I motioned Addison to head for the door, signaling I needed food, and she nodded vigorously. When we reached the coat check, we were finally able to hear each other over the blaring music.
“Pizza, cannoli, or gelato?” I asked.
“YES! I want it all.” She giggled, and I was happy she was on my level.
Out on the sidewalk, we looked up and down Hanover Street to get our bearings. Pizza was our first stop. I knew I was going to regret it the next day, but I didn’t care. Pepperoni was screaming my name, and no way would I ignore the call. Using her best telephone sex voice, Addison ordered a slice of meat lover’s from the poor guy, which had me buckled over at the knees, laughing so hard. I turned into a teenage boy when I drank, and thought everything was about sex.
“Addison loves meat,” I yelled after I took a breath between loud, obnoxious laughs.
I inhaled my huge slice, and was ready to walk across the street to get a gelato. Addison preferred a cannoli, so we headed to our favorite café where we could get both. Mike’s Pastry was supposed to be the best in the North End, but it was always packed with tourists, no matter what time it was.
“Why the hell did our forefathers build the sidewalks out of brick? I can’t walk in heels for shit in this town,” I complained to Addison when I stumbled.
Over time, the bricks broke and only half remained alongside a gaping hole, or the ground underneath pushed them up. Either way, the sidewalks were uneven, and a total walking hazard, even to the sober.
“Beats the heck out of me. Every time we go out drinking, we have this problem. Do you think we should either a, not drink so much, or b, not wear heels when we go out?” Addison responded.
“Fuck that. I’m not giving up my sexy heels or drinking. I’ll just say a small prayer that I don’t fall on my face.” I almost tripped again over a tree root, driving our point home.
Laughing like loons, we linked arms and crossed the street Frogger-style,
The DJ played all our favorite songs, so Addison and I danced together with only a few men trying to break up our duo. But we had the girls’ night vibe going on, so most men watched from afar and bought us drinks when we took a break.
During one breather, a very tall, dark, and handsome guy approached me.
“Hello there, beautiful, can I buy you a drink?” He looked edible.
“Sure. What’s your name?” I craned my neck to stare into his chocolate brown orbs.
“Dave. What’s yours?” His voice was husky and deep in my ear when he bent down so I could hear him.
“Alexa.”
“What’s your poison, pretty girl?” He snapped at the bartender to grab his attention and grew irritated when he didn’t rush to our end of the bar.
Strike one.
“I’d love a Sweetini. Thank you.” I smiled up at him. “Tell me about yourself.”
“I’m a financial advisor for a Fortune 500 company.” His eyes narrowed as he searched behind the bar. “And I’m going to buy and sell this shit hole if the bartender doesn’t get his ass down here this second.” He slammed his hand down on the bar, rattling the empty glasses nearby.
Strike two.
“He’ll get here when he has a second. No need to get upset,” I said, hoping to calm him down.
“I don’t wait for anyone. Want to get out of here, Lexie? I can make us drinks at my place quicker than this fool.”
Strike three.
“No, thank you. I think I’ve heard enough. Have a great night.” I walked away without a drink, but more importantly, I walked away from a pompous prick.
After the exchange with Dave, I brushed off any other man’s attempt to talk to me. I was more than happy to remain single if guys like him made up the dating pool.
Around midnight, my feet were killing me, and I needed food. And there was no better neighborhood to get good eats. I motioned Addison to head for the door, signaling I needed food, and she nodded vigorously. When we reached the coat check, we were finally able to hear each other over the blaring music.
“Pizza, cannoli, or gelato?” I asked.
“YES! I want it all.” She giggled, and I was happy she was on my level.
Out on the sidewalk, we looked up and down Hanover Street to get our bearings. Pizza was our first stop. I knew I was going to regret it the next day, but I didn’t care. Pepperoni was screaming my name, and no way would I ignore the call. Using her best telephone sex voice, Addison ordered a slice of meat lover’s from the poor guy, which had me buckled over at the knees, laughing so hard. I turned into a teenage boy when I drank, and thought everything was about sex.
“Addison loves meat,” I yelled after I took a breath between loud, obnoxious laughs.
I inhaled my huge slice, and was ready to walk across the street to get a gelato. Addison preferred a cannoli, so we headed to our favorite café where we could get both. Mike’s Pastry was supposed to be the best in the North End, but it was always packed with tourists, no matter what time it was.
“Why the hell did our forefathers build the sidewalks out of brick? I can’t walk in heels for shit in this town,” I complained to Addison when I stumbled.
Over time, the bricks broke and only half remained alongside a gaping hole, or the ground underneath pushed them up. Either way, the sidewalks were uneven, and a total walking hazard, even to the sober.
“Beats the heck out of me. Every time we go out drinking, we have this problem. Do you think we should either a, not drink so much, or b, not wear heels when we go out?” Addison responded.
“Fuck that. I’m not giving up my sexy heels or drinking. I’ll just say a small prayer that I don’t fall on my face.” I almost tripped again over a tree root, driving our point home.
Laughing like loons, we linked arms and crossed the street Frogger-style,
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