A few weeks ago I was out at one of my favorite drinking establishments to watch the Blackhawks game. I happened to sit next to two lovely women, one of which I'll refer to as "Our Heroine."
I overheard the second woman say it was her birthday which gave me the opportunity to wish her a happy birthday and to buy her a shot. We'll refer to her as "The Birthday Girl." I was sitting next to Our Heroine who seemed to be more drunk than The Birthday Girl. I pointed this out to The Birthday Girl who said, yeah, I was probably right. She wasn't sure how that happened.
Both of these women are very attactive - thin brunettes probably around 30 years old. Neither of them should have any problem attracting men.
Birthday Girl mentioned she had a boyfriend. They had celebrated her birthday the night before and she had a great time. He had to work early the next day so he was unavailable that night.
Our Heroine had her back to me and was frequently texting. This meant that I could easily see her phone and, since I'm nosy as hell, I read her current text conversation. It read like this:
To Paul_Smith_From_XSport: What's up? I've had a few drinks. Why don't you come out and meet me here?
Given the name on her phone, I'm guessing Our Heroine is not very close to "Paul Smith" as she had to indicate to herself that she knew him from the gym. Meanwhile, one of the bar regulars, we'll call him "Bruce," shows up. He's a bit of an effeminate guy and a good talker. Conversation is flowing almost as fast as the drinks and the shots. Even though Our Heroine usually has her back to me we talk a bit but I'm talking more to The Birthday Girl mainly because she's less drunk and is much better at forming coherent sentences than Our Heroine. Meanwhile, Our Heroine checks her phone.
Paul_Smith_From_XSport: I'm chilling on my couch and not much in the mood to come out.
This doesn't go over well with Our Heroine. She quickly responded knowing she had to up the ante.
To Paul_Smith_From_XSport: Hey, I've been here for a little bit. I'm a little tipsy. Why don't you meet me out? I'm not wearing any underwear.
As if she didn't have enough of my attention.
Now it's time to search for clues. The next time she gets up from her chair I notice that she's wearing a flesh-colored bra. So she's either not wearing any panties or she's lying. Not that it mattered because if her ploy worked she wouldn't be wearing anything for very long.
Since our ladies had been drinking for a while they did what many folks do when they drink, they kept heading outside to smoke. During one of these breaks, I was talking to Bruce. He told me that they both had pretty steady boyfriends. This was a bit of a surprise to me given the nature of the texting with XSport man.
When they returned, Our Heroine checked her phone and sure enough had another message:
Paul_Smith_From_XSport: Not motivated to go out. Could use some inspiration. Why don't you send me a picture of your boobs?
This tells me that somewhere some guy who's out with his friends has made a bet about how he can get this hot chick to send him a picture of her boobs.
So here we are in a fairly crowded bar. We're sitting at the bar, at the far end from the door. Our Heroine is sitting to my right with her back to me facing The Birthday Girl who's facing back. Bruce is standing in the middle of them. I'm concentrating on the game when I hear a commotion. The Birthday Girl yells "(Our Heroine)! No!" Bruce says, "Honey, put those away. I've already seen them." Apparently Our Heroine tried to execute the requested picture for XSport man but was interrupted.
The game went on. There were no further messages with XSport man that I witnessed. After the game ended, Bruce and the ladies decided to head to another bar. They asked me to join them but I declined partly because I'd had enough for the night and partly because I likely had a better shot of going home with Bruce than either of our two party girls. The ladies went to the restroom. They were gone for what seemed like a long while. I talked to Bruce in the interim. They finally returned and we said our goodbyes.
As Our Heroine turned to leave I noticed she was no longer wearing her flesh-colored bra.