Last Saturday, my besties and I stormed the Ace Hotel late night, after an evening of in-house capers with Palm Spring’s Finest. Proper noun. (You don’t want to know.)
As I danced my medium-sized heart out with the most amazing gays you will ever meet, I was rudely interrupted by an overly drunk, underly coherent soul. I attempted congeniality, as someone in our group pronounced Awkward Drunk Guy a friend of a few of our own from LA. This is how that worked out:
ADG: “This is so crazy.”
Me: “What’s so crazy?”
ADG: “This.”
Me: “What do you mean?”
ADG: “It’s just…you know…crazy.”
…
Me: “Ok.”
…
Scintillating.
Luckily, the aforementioned gays are equipped with excellent swoop-and-rescue skills. Let the revelry resume!
Unfortunately, ADG was not at a point in his night to be picking up on not-so-subtle social cues. As my fav fellow frolicker made all attempts to twirl me out of reach, ADG trailed my beat-friendly footsteps around the dance floor, occasionally capturing me in brief moments of conversational nothingness.
All in all, a slightly hilarious scene, which we proceeded to rehash the next day, as we sweat out our hangovers poolside.
…And then one amongst our crew (we shall call him DD for the purposes of this post)proceeded to rehash the whole thing once again upon his return to LA. With ADG. I love full circles. Here’s how that exchange went down:
DD: heyyyyyyyyy
ADG: hey! that was funny
i hope i didnt do anything too embarassing (sic)
DD: you were creeping on that girl
it was a topic of conversation the next day
ADG: i was creeping on everything
DD: ha
why were you there?
ADG: for a wedding
why were YOU there?
DD: friend’s birthday
ADG: oh fun times
i only hit on that girl
b/c everyone else seemed gay
and she talked to me
…
And here I thought it was my good looks and charming personality.
Chalk. Win. Meh.