10/5/15

Winter owns a bar although it hasn't officially opened.  Still sometimes we hang out there.

There is something cozy about talking in a darkened bar.  The bonus is you have lots of choices of drinks so I had a cocktail.... or two.... or  ... Winter was telling me about his days as a Gorean slavetrader.  Yep, another glass please bartender.  I need a little reinforcement as I listen to the glory days of owning a slave training institution of beautiful girls. Yep, bartender, keep them coming because it sounds like the girl keep ...

Oops, I spilled a drink.  Luckily Winter has extra clothes stashed behind the bar.  Wait!  What is he doing with women's clothes stashed so handily?

I can't get the other sleeve on.  Oh, well. Give me another drink, bartender.  Is this my fifth or seventh?  Oh, hell, who cares.   I start telling Winter about how ... hmmm, what is the ending to this story... I better improvise.  Winter is such a sweetheart, he listens attentively (even if I did pick up on the sarcasm of his listening pose, like a bestie -- he can't help his sarcasm, it's an east coast thing.  He really is listening.  He looks yummy. I wish I could remember the end, though.)

Oh!  this is a great tune!  I jump on the bar and dance.  Winter shakes his head and cuts me off from the booze.  Darn!  I'm not that drunk! ....  Love this song!