Where am I?

Ever wake up after 2 hours of sleep, stretch out, open your eyes and say to yourself, "That's not my wall", look in another direction and think again "That's not my wall either" bolt upright and think; "What the fuck? Where am I?"

And then you remember, Ooohhh yea....ummmm.. guess I kinda passed out after....

Yea that was me this morning.

It doesn't shame me to tell you this. In fact I'm pretty damn proud of myself. And I think, fuck, any woman over 30 who can get a 25 year old Irish bartender to bring them home after about 1 hour of chatting should feel proud of themselves too.

There is no shame in getting some tail kiddies. Everyone needs to get in on some action and hey my regular guy was busy. I had to improvise.

And sometimes improvisation leads you to a Irish bar in times square at 3am and has you leaving with a really cute bartender at 4:30 in the morning.

I insisted I wasn't going to go home with him, just was going to walk him home since I was awake..who the hell was I kidding? Like a 6ft tall guy needs a 5'3" bodyguard. Yeah I guess I didn't believe it when it came out of my mouth either. Oh well...it was totally worth it..

I wonder if I will hear from him again? Probably not. Why? Oh because I would totally hit that again. If I didn't want to ever see him again her would have called and texted me 10 times already.