A Night That Goes Downhill

Had scuba class again, and this time, it was all classwork. We worked on dive tables, went over gear...and overall good class. Save for that one person who kept chattering during the entire thing. I refer to it as "clucking"...where the words coming out of your mouth are just partial words, you don't make much sense, and it goes non-stop.

The guy came this close to having me go over and poke him in the eye with my ink pen. Stewie guessed he had ADD. I surmised that he was probably going to have a nurse-induced head injury by the end of our scuba training.

Afterwards, Stewie and I went to the Blue Grotto for beverages and snacks. Because it was a Monday, and later in the evening, it wasn't that crowded. We opted for a table inside. Ordered some food, and spent the rest of the evening chatting about life, scuba, lamenting relationships, work, and a host of other things that escape me for the time being.

The food was great. The ambience was great. The place was gorgeous. The establishment had a mod and trendy feel with coming off all douche-baggy. However, at the bar, a butterfaced blond wearing clothes that would have looked better on a Hannah Montana fan, was completely hammered and had wrapped herself around her boyfriend. When someone behaves so inappropriately at a place where you expect to see grown-ups behaving like grown-ups and not strippers, it's hard to hard to not look...but I found my eyes wandering over to her and her apparent disregard for decorum. Her eyes met mine a couple times and apparently thought I was going to make a play for her boyfriend, because then it got worse. At one point, she pulled up her shirt and flashed him (mine are bigger), checking his tonsils to make sure they were still there, and I think she may have started dry humping his leg.

At some point, he reached his hand up under her skirt. Maybe he was studying to be a gynecologist and needed practice. I don't know, and I don't care. I only hoped he would wash his hands thoroughly before touching anything else.

Now, I don't consider myself a prude in terms of sex and sexuality. On the contrary, I have pretty impressive freak flag. However, I come from the school of "Lady on the streets, freak in the sheets". There is a time and a place for everything, and playing Finger bang in someplace other than Erotic City...not cool.

Have some dignity and save that crap for a venue that doesn't serve food to it's patrons. Or at most drinking establishments in Westport....I hear they like that sort of thing there.

After we watched Skanky McButterface being carried out by her boyfriend (of the evening), we stayed and gabbed a little more with the other staff...all of whom witnessed the behavior, and admitted that it was standard for her. And that she was married. But the guy who was checking for pubic lice wasn't her husband.

This just gets better and better!

Other than the Porn Show, my experience at Blue Grotto was pleasant, and I would definitely visit again. The establishment can't be faulted because some of it's patrons might have the couth of Funkhouser's wife, so I'm sure my experience was an isolated incident (I hope).

At any rate, Stewie and I said our goodbyes, and we got in our cars. Mine smelled suspiciously like burning wires, and my headlights wouldn't turn on. Because I'm terrified of being in a burning car, I flag Stewie down and she drove me home. So, in the morning, I have to go take my car in the shop and hope they have it fixed by the time I have to go to work.

Electric work on a car is rarely cheap. I'll make sure to take some extra lube when I go to pick it up.

Meanwhile, I'll just hope and pray that it doesn't spontaneously combust in the parking lot.

AND I'll practice relaxing my sphincter muscles.