Recession douche.
“You’re the one coming home with me,” I reassured the latest acquisition to my booty call log, Saturday night. “But first this other guy wants to buy me a drink, so…Free booze.”
“Of course,” he encouraged. “Who can say no?”
“Riiight?! Okay. I’ll be back.”
And off, across the dance floor, to the bar I flew!
What? Don’t you look at this post like that. Times are tough. There’s nothing wrong with taking advantage of a little ingestible generosity so long as I never actually have sex for money. You know, like cash.
Alright, okay. No gift cards either.
