Adventures in Pioneer Square

This happened a couple of weeks ago, a tried and true asshole moment. A couple of friends from law school and I went out in Pioneer Square for a change of pace, or as mike put it "To prove we aren't afraid of black people". If you dont know what or where the fuck Pioneer Square is, a brief rundown. it is a corner on the south tip of downtown seattle. Its the part of town that only has sports bars, clubs, and more clubs and sports bars. It is perhap most famous for the time Ken Hamlin, then a starting safety for the seahawks, was knocked out with a lead pipe in the middle of the sidewalk. So there you have it.

It was some time in the middle of the week, so things were slow. We were posted up at some place that I dont remember the name of. We plop down in a corner, and five minutes later this hoeish hispanic girl comes up to us, and in painfully broken english, asked "who is buying me a drink?" Now, I've spent a lot of time at bars, and I have picked up a lot of women at bars, and never in my entire life has a relatively attractive chick walked up to me and two equally average looking men and threw out a line like that. Red Flag Number 1. Mike immediately blurts out "ill buy you a driiiiiink!" before I can even finish laughing at this girls busted grill. shit she had bad teeth. I said, "good thing we have mike with us. I'm not buying you a fucking drink". She then tried to give me this lecture on how to be "nice". mike is nice, I am not. noted. I think at some point my conscience reared its ugly head and I bought her some bitch-shot. Which in hindsight I dont mind. I had no intention of digging this one out, and the drunker she got, the more fun we all had.

Somewhere in there, and this night is foggy- we'll get to that later-she tells us she "used to be a stripper". RED FLAG NUMBER 2. I know this from working the door at a strip club for about a week. A) any stripper at a low rent dive like the ones in Seattle will fuck you for the right price. B) "I used to be a stripper" only means three things: First-You graduated college. not a chance in hell. this chick had shit for brains and could barely speak english. She kept rambling over and over as she got drunker and drunker, and I kept smiling and nodding. all I could discern was that she thought I looked like a "rocker", and well, that she thought I was an asshole. Second- You do porn. not hot enough for porn. not even close. THIRD AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, "I used to be a stripper" almost ALWAYS means one thing. "I am a prostitute". This was painfully evident about 20 minutes into the encounter to me and our cohort, but mike wasn't getting the idea. at some point she fell out of her chair. Mike was totally oblivious to the whole damn thing, just enjoying his drunken bump-and-grind lap dance. Just to prove her whorehood, I sealed the deal with this. she went to the bathroom, I should say stumbled. She left her purse and cell phone at the table. Naturally, being a stupid girl, she had been texting all goddamn night. I was out for the goods. and of course, who had she been texting? Her fucking pimp! the last one she sent was something like "I think he iz dwn. cn u be here soon?" or some shit. We bolted while she was gone, probably puking, and I left her a note. one sentence, four words. YOU ARE A WHORE.

You probably know what happened next. we found ourselves further north at the Taphouse. seriously, 160 beers on tap? Tucker, they do in fact serve beer in hell. It's located at the Seattle, Wa Taphouse. All I remember is getting shitface drunk, trying to drive, realizing I couldnt, mike driving me back to his house, and waking me up at the ass crack of dawn.

whatever, Me-1 Seattle Hooker- 0.