Last Night ©

The other day I got a phone call from this woman I had met a while back and she asked if I would like to meet up for dinner or coffee.
I’m not one to say no to an excuse to get out of the house and I said I would love too.
We arranged to meet at an intersection downtown.

Now it’s been awhile since I seen her and it was usually in dark spaces so I was struggling with my memory trying to picture her face so I would recognize her when we met.
I don’t want to end up like Mike did that time when he made a date with a chick while he was high on Valium so he didn’t remember a thing about it or her the next day.
He was fucken surprised when I mentioned that he had a date on that Friday night with her.
For the next three days he grilled me on what she looked like and what her name was.
I knew what she looked like because I saw him with her but I didn’t know her name.
When Friday rolled around he had me go with him to the bar and sit across the room so I can signal when she walked in.

Let me tell you something.
This was a fucken busy bar man.
Every chick that walked in, he would look at me first and I would nod, no.
This went on for HOURS because he didn’t remember what time they agreed to meet.
I mean we got there at six fucken pm and I almost got whiplash before I finally nodded yes to him at 9pm.
Then I left to find some ice while he tried to figure out her name.

You would think that my memory was enough of a hindrance but it’s not my only problem.
Over the decades Walker has been in a few scraps here and there.
Numerous accidents, I’m famous for my accident posts for those who are new here.
Some can’t really be called accidents like that time I drove that car into the wall to see if it would explode.
It didn’t.
And they didn’t have air bags back then unless you count the old windbag I stole the car from.

My head went through the dash of the car when a stolen van driven by a stripper hit us head-on once.
I was injured more in the ambulance ride on the way to the hospital when the gurney flipped over with me strapped to it.

Fell head first 20 feet onto concrete steps.
That hurt a bit.
Made me pay to fix the step I broke.

I have been hit in the head with more pucks than Patrick Roy.
Obviously he’s the better hockey goalie.
I think I lost half my eyesight when I zipped up my dick with my pants.
That was an eye popper.

So it’s safe to say both of my heads have taken a beating over the years and it has affected my eyesight a lot.
Hmmm, we may have to throw masturbating in there too.

For years, decades in fact I didn’t wear glasses because I figured my eyesight was fine, until I ran out of pot one day that is and woke up blind.
At least I thought I woke up blind when in fact I was so stoned for the previous five years, I didn’t notice I was blind until I ran out of pot.
May explain a lot of those accidents too.

So I REALLY needed to remember what she looked like.

I am sitting here trying to recall what she looked like and then the dirty part of my mind started trying to remember what her boobs looked like.
Well, if you can’t remember the face maybe I could remember what her boobs looked like and I want no lip from any of you ladies either.
Most of you recognize football players from their butts and not their faces so bite me.

So I’m sitting here trying to envision what her tits looked like until it was time to go.
I had a two mile walk ahead of me to the intersection and along the way I could try and remember what her face or boobs looked like.
As my feet knocked off the blocks I found myself into a bigger dilemma.
While I was walking down the street trying to remember what she looked like I noticed the other women walking around and started looking at their faces and boobs.
Now I was totally fucked up and I didn’t smoke a joint either.

While I am walking to the intersection where we are to meet I looked at my watch and saw I still had five minutes to get there and was getting a little nervous about recognizing her as I approached the corner.
When I got there, there was no one there yet, so my chances were looking good the way I saw it now.
All I had to do is stand there and she will come to me.
Sweet, I’m off the hook.

Ten minutes go by and she is still not there.
My cell phone rings and it her.
She says she is late but if I didn’t mind I could walk up and meet her while she walked towards me.

FUCK

I tell her sure but to walk on the west side of the street, this would increase my chances of recognizing her.
You see, I’m one of those people who thinks on their feet at the spur of the moment.
You know, when the going get tough the tough get going kinda crap.
Give me your best shot and I can take it mumbo jumbo.
No surprise is to big for me to handle malarkey.

Well as luck would have it.
Just as I’m walking up the street 1000 women walked around the corner towards me holding placards and chanting protests.
Fuck I hope they aren't some of my old dates and found out where I was.

Give me a fucken break.
It’s hard enough trying to spot one face in a crowd without adding another 1000 faces and 2000 extra boobs to recognize.

Did I mention I thought it would be a nice stress less evening going out to meet up with her?

So now I am wadding through all these women to get to the other side and clear of them then proceed back down the street looking for her.
I walked for another ten minutes and five blocks and was getting that feeling that says you fucked up and missed her.
That’s when the phone rang and it was her.
She asked me where I was and I told her and yes, she was now five blocks behind me and not in front of me.

STUPID FUCKEN EYES

So we stayed on the phones and started walking towards each other.
She said she could see me.
I stared off blankly down the street.
On the phone she was yelling at me and said she was waving.
I’m thinking she’s getting ready to jump on a stranger because I don’t see anyone waving in front of me.

I take about another twenty steps and then.......... I think I recognized a face in the crowd who was waving her a hand.
She must have been a good thirty feet away.

See, I recognized her face and I was all worried about not recognizing her.
As we got closer to each other it was obvious what had happened and why we missed each other. It was totally my fault.
You see, I can’t see anything under double Ds from twenty feet away.

So the moral of the story is always remember the face and let your fingers figure out the boobs when you’re up close and personal.

Have a nice day.

Walker