Saturday, December 1, 2007

What's Wrong with Your Arm?

One of my friends threw an outdoor 4th of July party this past summer. He had kegs, a band, a bunch of guys and very few women. Quite the "sausage fest". I brought a girl I was living with at the time, so I knew I was getting laid no matter what. The guy that threw the party lived in an apartment with one neighbor who lived below him. The party-goers started drinking around noon, and around 8:00 his neighbor came home. The neighbor seemed a little weird when I first met her, and she seemed to be a little annoyed at all the people in her back yard. She was 52 years old and about 250 pounds. As it got later and the volume got louder, I bumped into the neighbor on my way into the house and figured I should be extra nice to her. I didn't want her calling the cops to shut the party down, so a little pre-emptive small talk ought to do the trick.

She ended up bringing me into her apartment to show me around. After a while we ended up in her bed and she was giving me a blow job. Something didn't quite seem right. She kept trying to re-position herself and it sounded like she was doing sit-ups or something. Whatever she was trying to do it was taking all her effort. While I was laying back enjoying myself the girl I had brought to the party with me was banging on the door. She sounded like she was about to break the door down, but I didn't care. I only had one thing to accomplish, and it had nothing to do with her. I had been in this chick's apartment for a couple of hours at this point, and when I left my friends just looked at me and said I'm sick.  I looked around, ready to face the girl I arrived with and she was nowhere to be found.  At that time I also noticed my car was gone too.  She had my car keys and had left me stranded at this party now.  She only had the key to the car and not my house, because this wasn't the first time she left me somewhere.

I thought about reporting the car stolen because I was pissed, but figured it wasn't worth it. I had to convince the girl I just hooked up with to bring me to my house now, 20 miles away.  It took some talking, but she agreed to bring me if I gave her a few bucks for gas.  I didn't have any cash with me, so I had to ask my friend 'Captain Chaos' (more on him in another post someday) and he gave me $5.  We get into the girls car and I notice a handicap permit hanging from the mirror.  I look to my left and there's a knob on the steering wheel...the kind that handicapped people use to turn the wheel if they only have one arm.  I don't know how I missed it up until this point, but the girl had something wrong with one arm and couldn't use her hand.  No wonder she was grunting and groaning when we were in bed earlier.  Did I really just hook up with a girl that had a clubbed hand?  You betcha, and I couldn't wait to tell the story to my friends.

When I got home the first girl had busted one of my windows out and was in the house.  I was so pissed that I didn't even talk to her even though she wouldn't stop trying.  The next morning I had to call Captain Chaos because he had hooked up with the girl from the party a few weeks earlier.  He didn't answer his phone all day.  Later that night I got a call from the guy that had the party, and he was laughing his ass off.  He said when the girl got back from dropping me off, Captain Chaos had gone into her apartment and hooked up with her.  This is less than 2 hours after I did.  Talk about sloppy seconds!

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