I kissed a gay man last night. Wait, let me rephrase this, a gay man kissed me. Not simply the peck on the cheek, or even the brief whisping of lips on lips that he usually leaves me with. Instead he grabbed me after a night of dancing and really kissed me. Uh, can you say shocked?
April & I were on the way to Rock the Fort, local rock band showcase, sitting in 6 lanes of traffic & I notice that I'm getting a lil blushed (which happens frequently & all too easily) while recanting the previous night's adventure. I started waving my hand in a vain attempt to make the splotchy go away. My dear friend is looking at me, which I chalk up to the fact that I'm still talking, but noooooo. She stutters & stalls as she tells me that I need to quit fanning myself ... because ... "You're, um, making them, uh, those, um... bounce." Well hello. Seriously she's afraid that my bounce is creating a distraction in traffic. And that my bounce is going to free my sporties from their carefully crafted position in my tank top. Wait till we hit the show ; )
Speaking of "hitting" & "the show", April needs all eyes forward while walking through a full parking lot. Here's why: after arriving at the Coliseum, we ambled across the parking lot, through the vehicles. She's looking back and getting excited about the details of her previous evening when *BAM* ... she twirls around, the breath knocked out of her, and, luckily for her, the side mirror still attached to the vehicle that she just tried to maim. I exploded with laughter. She walked right into a side mirror, boob first. THAT was funny.
3 weeks ago