Here are some things you should never do:
1. You should never go to the grocery with four friends on three bikes and pick up three crates…yes, crates…of beer, two bottles of wine, and a bottle of port, and then proceed to bike back with the mountain of boos you have just acquired, as well as the freeloading friend riding bitch on the back of one of the bicycles.
2. You should play a couple hours of Mario Kart, because, well, that’s just good fun, and you did just bike a mile or so with some pretty heavy and fragile cargo.
3. You should, however, never follow the innocent fun of Mario Kart with a game of King’s Cup.
4. You should certainly not follow that game with another.
5. …and another.
6. …and, Jesus, aren’t these boos finished yet? No? Well, fuck, another then!
7. After four games of King’s Cup, you should never proceed to a bar to drink further.
8. You should not flirt with a gay man because he keeps buying you free drinks.
9. You should be introduced to a B-52, because those are just fucking delicious.
10. You should not then surprise the gay man with news that you are exclusively into women, because he will get very confused and angry and stomp out of the bar.
11. You should then use the newfound drink that the gay man bought you to pick up a girl.
12. You should not, however, leave that girl for another girl, right in front of her.
13. You should certainly not use that girl to reel in the girl you were with the night before.
14. You should also not leave the girl from the night before to go back to the girl you used to bring her in…especially when the other girl has a boyfriend…who is 30.
15. Finally, you should always know when to cut your losses. If a girl leaves a bar, but invites you to her room, by all rationale, you should go to her room. So when New York whispered “24K” seductively into my ear, I was not thinking about the two other women with their attention on me, and I certainly wasn’t thinking about her 30 year old boyfriend back in The States, all I was thinking was, “Disco.” So, after about fifteen minutes and another shot passed, I left the bar and headed for her room. Ringing the doorbell, I was giddy as a boy on Christmas morning. I hadn’t had a girl cheat on her boyfriend with me in quite some time. Those are always the best. It’s a double-win. You both get the girl, and best the guy. Now, when she opened the door, I was expecting something sleepy but sexy, but instead I got a boy’s shirt and some shorts, but with legs like hers I didn’t mind all that much. She led me up to her room, offered me a glass of wine, and everything was all but secured. And that’s when shit got weird. Rather than making any attempt at seduction, she opted to crawl into her…wait for it…pink Disney princess bed sheets, and talk some innane shit about her family for God knows how long. Becoming increasingly bored, and realizing of my three options that night, the one that seemed most viable suddenly swan dived into oblivion, I had another sip of wine, and walked out. She asked if I’d see her for brunch tomorrow, I said “maybe,” and then slept until one the next afternoon.
C’est la vie, plenty of other fish in the beautiful Dutch sea.
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