The Move

Editor’s Note: The following post details particular behavior which I neither encourage, nor endorse. Don’t do it. It’s stupid and dangerous. Do as I say, not as I do. Also, if reading about my interest in men and flirtage with the other gender disturbs you in any way, definitely, skip this post ! 🙂

Instead of doing a chronological recording of the events that transpired over the past weekend,

I figured I’d start it all out with a recitation of the events that took place in a bar at about 2:20 am, Sunday morning.

Please keep in mind that this was only a small portion of a very, long, fun day … a day that started about 10:00 am on Saturday with Kenna, Laura and myself on a little excursion and concluding about 4:00 on Sunday am after Kenna, Laura and myself finished a little excursion involving the three of us, an alleged Illinois State Representative and two “operatives”.

In subsequent posts, I’ll mention a few of the other girls I met and/or hung out with this past weekend, but for the purposes of this post, you only need to know of Kenna and Laura.

Regular viewers know Kenna, she posts here, and while this isn’t a knock on any of the other kewl people I’ve met in my transition, is the kewlest, sweetest, nicest person I’ve ever met during this journey/challenge. I can only hope some of her niceness rubs off on me.

Laura is a girl I just met on Friday. Kenna met Laura at V-Day and was all excited about seeing her again this weekend and told me that she’s a riot and is a fun, nice person. Just for the record, despite Kenna’s glowing introduction of Laura, she undersold her … Laura is absolutely Kenna kewl !!

Anyways, the three of us hit it off really well and though we did collective group things with the rest of the peeps, the three of us found our common fondness for shopping, food and alcohol leading us on frequent joint excursions.

This one particular excursion began at approximately 1:15 am on Sunday morning after we had returned to the hotel from an extended stay at a bar after the Blue Man Group show.

Oh yeah, I suppose I should also mention this little bet that Kenna, Laura and I had going on amongst ourselves …

…. the first girl who gets a guy to buy them a drink wins a steak dinner courtesy of the other two.

(Now listen, I’m well aware that there are some natal women out there (and possibly some trans-women) that are rolling their eyes at such frivolity … or voicing a mocking comment of some sort along the lines of … “you transsexuals are always into such games” … to which I have but one reply … loosen up ! 🙂 There is nothing “transsexual” or trite about such games, there are simply fun to do.)

Now with that being the set-up …

Here’s what happened (please ignore Kenna and Laura’s version which I’m sure will follow at some point !! :)).

“We need martinis !!” Kenna asserted followed by her trademark laugh.

“Yes !!!! Martinis !!!!” Amy enthusiastically exclaimed, fulfilling the follower, not leader role perfectly.

“Apple martinis, that’s what we need … apple martinis !!” Kenna added, nodding her head while clearly in deep thought. Well, as much deep thought as one can have at 1:15 a.m.

“What the … the martini bar is closed. What Chicago bar closes at 1:00 am on a Saturday night, unacceptable,” Amy moaned.

“Ahhhh, ladies … let’s just get a cab and go someplace then,” Laura wisely suggested.

(Just for the record, despite having a disturbing ability to misplace things … “Hey, has anyone seen my scapel?“, Laura is clearly the most intelligent of us three … proof in point … she’s a two day Jeopardy champion (true fact) AND she was the first of us to mention that we should get a cab and go back out.)

So a five dollar cab ride later, we found ourselves outside this bar.

Now at this point …

The Bet wasn’t specificially mentioned by any of us, but …

We were all aware of it and all intent on winning.

(The drinks Kenna and I got two gay guys to buy for us earlier in the evening were disqualified because gay guys buying you drinks don’t count … ya see, they weren’t buying us drinks in hopes of getting something from us later … they bought us drinks because we were phunny as hell and made them laugh … which was nice, but not the gist of The Bet.)

So this was a pretty decent bar … quite a few people … younger crowd, and being later in the evening/earlier in the morning … the pickings for the drunk boys still remaining was getting slim … a quick scan of the room and it was clear that of the girls remaining in the bar that weren’t already attached to someone … we were clearly the cream of the the crop.

Like shooting fish in a barrel !! 🙂

The only question was who was going to score a drink first.

Figuring I’d take a run at scouting the selection … I took the lead in walking us through the bar looking for an available table/bar seat location.

Near the end of the bar there was room for us to stake a position at the bar.

So I made what proved to be a strategically poor move,

And grabbed the first seat,

Laura being the smart one, wisely took the furthest seat,

And Kenna, being the nice one, took what was left, the middle seat.

Now I took the first seat because it appear to be temporarily unoccupied by a 55-ish year old guy …

Yeah, someone smack dab in the age range of those who seem to find my Amy-tude entertaining (though at some point in the weekend, I think one of my two partners in crime commented that it’s not my Amy-tude that the 55 year old guys like, it’s just that I don’t scare them away like I do the younger guys since they’ve lost their hearing and can’t hear my lame attempts at disturbing jokes) …

“Oh, I’m sorry, is this your seat?” I innocently asked as he noticed I had indeed taken his bar stool.

“Yes, it was, but that’s okay, it’s all yours,” he said as he moved down the bar some and grabbed another seat.

“Damn,” I said to myself, realizing I hadn’t caught his eye in the least. Bastard … he must be gay.

Now this wasn’t good … Laura’s choice of seat selection placed her right next to two single guys and effectively boxed Kenna and I from any possible conversation with them. Plus she had the added edge of displaying her ample boobage to the boys … which they were blatantly noticing.

I was trying to decide what to do when all of the sudden …

This incredibly cute, very drunk, late-twentysomething man took a position next to me.

Now granted, he was very cute, but not my type, and having just suffered a blow-off by a man in an age group I almost never strike out with … I wasn’t paying attention and hesitated …

And despite the fact that she had to talk over me to converse with him … Kenna totally stole my opening line-type I would have used on this boy and promptly got his attention.

Yes, wisely noting that Cute Drunk Man exuded self-confidence … Kenna executed perfectly the “mock the guy to his face” opening line when she noticed that he was drinking a hazy cloudy draft of Blue Moon beer with a lemon floating at the top … he was obviously drinking it slow at this point in the night, it just didn’t look right.

“What are you drinking, a floating turd?” she said to him.

“Krap,” I said silently to myself as his eyes lit up while taking the bait of the mock. (Get it … floating turd … krap … funny, huh? Come on … it’s a little bit funny … no? Okay, well, at least I tried ! :))

(Amy-Tip, well … I suppose, technically a Kenna-Tip too since she used it too perfection: The “mock the guy to his face” opening line is a great way to start a conversation with an over-confident bar dude. One, a blatant mock has a little shock appeal, so it gets his attention. Two, it puts him on the defensive, which extremely drunk men exuding self-confidence have a hard time ignoring. And three, it shows some attitude in the girl, and guys who exude self-confidence love the chase.)

Before I knew it, Cute Drunk Man had picked up his drink and walked behind me to converse with Kenna.

Yes, clearly … in this little competition … I was playing against very skilled and wise women.

I was shaken … totally getting out played by both Kenna and Laura.

I took a half-hearted run at Cute Drunk Man’s friend, but he was leaving and showed no interest in me, nor in staying.

Hmmm … I didn’t have much left, so I decided to work the system …

I turned my attention to the baseball game on the tube and decided I’d see if I could play the sympathy angle from the bartender …

You know … wait for Kenna and Cute Drunk Man to be engrossed in conversation and Laura and her two puppies to be likewise entertained … and then play the poor left-out girl to the bartender and see if I could snake a drink from him on the house … something along the lines of the following might work …

“Story of my life, those two each end up with a guy and I’m left buying myself a drink.”

Yeah … it was probably compromising the intent of The Bet, but in that particular setting … it was all I had available and I was being resourceful.

Then all of the sudden I heard Cute Drunk Man yelling and me in a drunken stupor …

“Yoooouu and mi, a pikture of yu and meeee.”

“Pardon?”

“Yoooouu and mi, a pikture of yu and meeee.”

Now despite the fact that I consume alcohol, and most of my friends do likewise, I really don’t speak drunk very well. Mainly because, I, and my friends, rarely ever get drunk. We just take ourselves to a comfortable point of buzzness and maintain. So it wasn’t clear at all to me what the whole slurry talk speak he was saying meant.

I was contemplating this when all of the sudden he put his arm around my neck and turned me in the direction of Laura who had a camera in her hand …

Flash !!

Flash !!

Two quick pictures of me being strangled by Cute Drunk Man.

While Laura showed me the gawdawful pictures of me and Cute Drunk man (delete those two please :)) …

Cute Drunk Man released me from the stranglehold and proceeded to place his hand on my knee.

Now please note … I did not do anything to take his attention away from Kenna … nothing … nada … zippo

I was simply sitting there,

Just being lil’ ol’ me,

And watching the tube.

But ……

I will admit, when he placed his hand on my knee,

I figured Kenna was done with him and I was back in the running.

What?

Be real, of course I didn’t remove his hand from my knee. 🙂

Anyways, wanting to see if I could still scam a drink outta the boy,

While knowing Kenna had already played my “mock the guy to his face” gambit,

I figured I’d go with the intelligent, yet naive and innocent tactic.

So after he was well aware I was an attorney (whether or not that fact makes one intelligent is certainly open for debate, and if anything, is probably proof to the contrary, but hey, it seemed to score some recognition with Cute Drunk Man) …

I started the conversation with …

“What’s THAT yer drinking?” Delivered with a bit of a Valley Girl edge.

“A Blue Moon,” he answered.

“A Blue what?” I replied while scrunching up my face.

“A Blue Moon, don’t tell me you’ve never heard of a Blue Moon?” He replied in a moderately condenscending, mildly optimistic manner while contemporaneously sliding his hand further up my inner thigh.

Inside Amy’s Brain at that moment:

Let’s see, I can respond in three ways to his latest “hand sliding up my thigh” move:

1.) I could give him a firm “Stop” command, however, that would probably discourage him such that he’d lose attention in me.

2.) I could allow him to continue upward as far as he pleases. Hell, he’d only be feeling anything through my jeans and I was more than safely tucked away, uncomfortably flattened in the crotch area with a maxi pad. But that isn’t going to get me a drink, and more importantly, it is contrary to my nature of being a tease, not a tramp. I’ll let him think he’s going to get something, but he rarely gets anything.

3.) I could do something to keep him optimistic.

I’ll go with with 3.)

Yeah, 3.)

So I whispered with a bit of a smirk, “Not here.”

I then took his hand, held it, and continued with the doltish “No, I’ve never heard of a Blue Moon.”

Now people, let’s be phreaking real … of course I’ve heard of Blue Moon, it’s a Coors Brewing Co. product for gawd’s sake … it’s often combined with a wedge of orange or lemon and is a somewhat popular drink … I’m not necessarily fond of it, but hey, I know what it is for kripe’s sake !

Anyways, I engage in some more sparky small talk with Cute Drunk Man and clearly had his interest … not for conversation mind you … he was looking to score with me.

He was kissing my neck and increasingly rubbing his hands all over my legs and back … there’s no question I could of had a drink out of him with but a mere suggestion … but I hesitated … if he was this frisky already, if I snaked a drink out of him, he’d expect much more than just some kissing and touching …

Which I don’t have a problem doing,

But it has to be with the right guy, in the right setting …

And this was neither.

I was thoroughly enjoying the banter,

And there’s something about a guy having his hand on the small of your back and rubbing it that just feels real nice …

So I continued the small talk and enjoyed the challenge of walking the line with a guy that was getting increasingly bolder in his hand and mouth movements.

Then just as another round of martinis were delivered to us (ahhh, I don’t remember paying for mine by the way, so thanks to Kenna or Laura, whichever of you purchased it for me) …

Cute Drunk Man must have decided that with the delivery of the drinks, we were committed long enough to allow him to make his move …

And boy did he ever …

Now granted, I only have about 6 months of experience in being actively fondled from time to time … so I don’t have a wealth of knowledge on the different moves of guys …

But in his drunkened state,

The boldness of this move and perfect execution in timing left me very impressed.

Yeah, sure, I felt a tad bit dirty …

But was still impressed.

Now pay attention here folks … this gets a little complicated.

THE MOVE

I was sitting on a bar stool, slightly turned to my left. Cute Drunk Man was standing right next to me on my left. My legs were side by side as I was letting Cute Drunk Man run his left hand up and down my inner left thigh some. His right arm was around my waist.

He slid his right hand up my right arm and pulled me closer to him and started to kiss my neck under my left ear, at the same time he moves this left hand up my inner left thigh quite higher and quicker than I was allowing. As I grabbed his left hand with my left hand to stop him just short, he alternates kissing and licking the back of my neck around to my right ear, moving me some with his right hand still at my shoulder. The neck kissing slightly tickled and I arched my back some and tilted my head backwards … he then made his way to my right ear where he proceeded to tongue my right ear fairly aggressively.

Inside Amy’s Brain at that moment:

Interesting, I used to like it when I was a boy and a girl was kissing my ear, but as a girl … this is doing NOTHING for me. Actually, it feels kinda yicky. The neck kissing though … wow !! Me like !! 🙂 Hmmmm, I wonder if there’s a relationship between tongue size and penis size, Cute Drunk Man certainly has a small tongue.

He then moved his right hand down my right arm and slid his hand down the back of my pants.

Inside Amy’s Brain at that moment:

What the phuck !! Is he going to wipe me for gawd’s sake ?? Hey, I wonder if I have a hairless butt, I’ve never shaved my butt. Well, apparently it’s not an issue, he seems to enjoy grabbing it. You know, I like it when guys grab my butt.

As he was sliding his right hand down the back of my pants, he took the left hand I was holding his left hand with, opened the palm of his hand, causing mine to likewise release and then turned my hand, pressing my open palm against his crotch.

Inside Amy’s Brain at that moment:

Well I guess that answers that question … penis size and tongue size certainly do NOT have a direct relationship. Despite having a small tongue, Cute Drunk Man sure has quite the large penis.

Now all of this took a grand total of maybe, what … 5 seconds. It happened pretty darn quick. And at that point, despite on some level being somewhat pleased that a man would do such with me (save that analysis of Amy for later kids) … I was well aware that I needed to extract myself from that setting. Enough fun for this bar.

My first thought was ditching for the bathroom, but then I remembered I actually had someone with me during this validatioooon excursion … Kenna and Laura !! Wooo hooo !!! And we had a safe word, a code word to get us the heck out of there if any of us said it … awwww krap, I can’t remember the code word … nor the code signal … come on Amy, think !!!!! We were talking about it at that bar on Friday night after Dr. Z’s … then when we were driving to the hotel … following Laura (by the way, if you ever get the opportunity to have Laura take the lead in getting you where you want to go, let her … she’s a phreaking, walking MapQuest) … nope, I can’t remember it. Geezuz.

So I removed my hand from Cute Drunk Man’s crotch and held his hand again, turning towards Kenna and I’m pretty sure showing a look of “help me” in my eyes …

“We’ve got to leave,” I whispered, “We’ve gotta go.”

Now I could tell, since I wasn’t using the code word, she thought at first I wasn’t serious. But at some point, either me saying “I’m serious” repeatedly or the look in my eyes convinced her that I really could use a little help there.

So she firmly stated, “It’s time for us go.”

At which point I stood up and removed Cute Drunk Man’s hand from my ass. Which he quickly replaced by putting them in my back pant pockets. I gulped down the martini that had just been delivered while Kenna was saying something to him.

He removed his hands and I just walked out … not looking back once, comfortable that Kenna and Laura had my back. Way kewl … having someone there to help me out of a situation like that !! So much nicer than my normal frightful experiences alone !!

Mucho thanks to Kenna for totally answering my call for assistance !!

Anyways, we got out on the sidewalk and had a fun laugh about what transpired … mainly at my expense … and all well deserved.

And that was that … until about 15 minutes later when we started talking smack with some alleged Illinios State Representative.

Oh yeah, and as far as I know … none of us won The Bet. 🙂