MCCXXIII, and the pick-up

A friend of mine recently invited me to go out clubbing.

At first, I was against the idea of doing so, since it interfered with my time sulking.

After much thought though, I relented and decided to go out and meet up with her.

I asked where it was located in D.C., and she gave me directions to get to 18th and K streets from where I was at that time.

Usually, I am against driving in the district, what with all its one way streets and all. This time, I wasn't sure as to how long I was going to be out so the prospect of using the Metro wasn't plausible.

It took me a whole 30 minutes to find parking, and 15 more to actually find the exact location. I had to call up another friend as well, just to get a better idea as to where it was too.

When I finally got there, she knew the bouncer and I was immediately ushered in.

After a few sips from my drink, I asked her, why, of all the places to go to, did she decide to go there.

Simple, she said.

Since I mentioned to her a few odd months back that I love Japanese chicks, she figured that this was the best place to meet Asian women that particular night.

Sweet.

Not more than 2 weeks have passed since my break-up, and my friends are already trying to hook me up.

I didn't meet anybody new, not that I actively looked anyway, but I must admit that I had fun.

She did say that I was being an idiot for not even seeing anybody when she kept seeing a whole bunch of them just pass by.

Maybe it's because I'm picky.

Perhaps I'm not ready yet.

Then again, there must be another reason why I wear perscription glasses.

Whatever the case was, I left by 1:30 in the a.m., just so that I could get home at a relatively decent time.

Thus, I walked back to the car.

Did I ever mention that I have a bad sense of direction? Couple that with alcohol, and I'd be lost.

Had to go on a brisk walk as well, since it was a tad nipply.

I did find the street where the parking garage was.

Eventually.

But, it wasn't before Candy tried picking me up.



A street before mine, a woman smiles at me and says hello.

I've been raised up not to be ever rude so I reciprocate.

She doesn't waste time, and goes straight for the kill.

You look like somebody important, she says.

Only then do I figure out what she's trying to sell.

I told her, it was just the clothes.

She asks if I'm looking for any fun that night.

I graciously decline.

She tells me that if I'm ever in need of any, she has an ad in the Post and that I should call her.

By then, I thank her and start walking away.

I do allow myself to smile and gently shake my head.

All things considered, maybe it isn't all that bad to be single again.