Girls, Girls, Girl.

So I started last night pub-crawling with the Ragnar. Had a beer here, a beer there, until he wanted to wander home. Then I hit Qbar.

So far just another Friday night, ennit?

But Qbar turned out to packed to the roof with cute girls last night, including my two adorably underage (for drinking, not for other stuff you perverted blogadytes you!) co-workers, who I spent the first part of the Qbaring dancing with. Well, dancing and trying to protect them from the little wanker they brought with them and the Craziest Lesbian of All Time.

First, The Wanker:

For starters, any straight guy who goes to a club wearing a white suit and skinny black tie is just sad. But it was his fucked up pick-up technique that that really iced the cheesy cake. He didn't do chat-up, didn't use lines, no! He ran up, literally tackled women to the floor and tried to kiss them. On any other bar he would have been beaten within a inch of his life, hauled outside, and then set on fire by the bouncers. But this being Qbar, the bouncers are too busy flexing in the windows and flirting with each other to notice.

The there was the Mad Dyke:

Her technique was only slightly less stupid than his, and basically consisted of running around the dance floor with a maniacal look in her eye fiercely gripping the breasts of any woman showing cleavage. Needless to the more well endowed of my co-workers had to be carefully protected from the Breast Beast.

The other thing I noticed at Qbar was that, while there was a refreshingly multi-ethic mix of people there, when it came to the women, the general rule seemed to be the darker the skin and hair, the more frightful the scowl and frown. Seriously, nice looking women, but SCARY!

Well, all except for the amazingly animated bouncing four-foot tall Japanese Dance-Dance Revolutionary.

She was having a blast.

But then something weird happened. Something that made me forget all about the co-workers and the Mad Lesbians and boogy-busting anime girls.

This rather lovely tall brunette started to dance with me.

Now, its been a long time since I danced with anyone with any sort of romantic overtones. In fact, the love-unlife of me has been non-existent since January. This caused me, the Sma, loud-mouthed camp-assed silly-bugger extraordinaire, to go all shy and fumbly. So there I am, dancing with her, and I know I have this stupid shy smile on my face, but I also notice that she has the same stupid smile on her face.

So I made a joke of it.

We went out on the deck and talked.

And well...

One thing led to another. It was unbelievably awkward and utterly lacking in grace, filled with funny moments and embarrassing silences.

It was wonderful.