This post serves two purposes:
1)This story is pretty funny and I think deserves a re-post. You don't need to laugh at it if you have already read it, a pleased smirk will do just fine.
2)By "phoning it in" for the sake of having a new post after what can only be considered a VERY long haitus I am hoping this my be the catalyst to get me writing again. I miss it. With that said:
THE FOLLOWING IS A TRUE STORY. TO PROTECT THE INDIVIDUALS INVOLVED NAMES HAVE BEEN CHANGED, ALTHOUGH I DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH THAT MATTERS BECAUSE IF YOU ARE READING THIS, UNLESS I HAVE SOMEHOW BECOME FAMOUS, YOU PROBABLY DON'T KNOW THESE PEOPLE ANYWAYS. Enjoy.
I have been violated. Here's the story:
I was having dinner with a group of work associates at a pretty high class joint. Dinner was fun, there were good stories and good jokes, the food was good. Everything was closing out in the way that dinner should and like a picture of personal responsibility I declined dessert repeatedly after the entire table stared at me with the expectation that I might say 'Oh, heck! I'll take ALL of them!'. Our waitress (an older, yet spunky gal named Tina) started to pass out after dinner chocolates as she placed the check. She put one down in front of me and began to move on to the next person when behind me I heard "Oh! Whoops" and then felt a cold square fall through a gap between my shirt and belt and straight into my buttcrack.
Tina fumbled and said "Oh no! I'm so sorry" to which I responded "Oh no it's o-" and before K came out she had reached down to extricate the treat from my hind quarters. Her fingers only managed to push the chocolate down further. "Tina I can get thaaaaa!" her hands probed further down the back of my trousers, knuckles brushing my nether cheeks until finally she digs the candy out of my undies. By this time she is laughing hysterically while I am scheduling an appointment with a therapist. Tina cackles and as she walks away she places the tainted chocolate in front of the person sitting next to me. Who eats it. 8l .
Epilogue: As I regained my composure I told Tina that that wasn't the first time I've had someone fish chocolate out of my crevasse. I turned to my seatmate and let him finish the morsel before asking him how it tasted. His response was pretty nondescript but his expression changed when I asked him if his chocolate was extra humid. I then described to him the initial fall of his treat, the subsequent deeper plunge, and the final retrieval, before it arrived in front of him. He muttered something about hoping that the alcohol would sterilize his mouth as he swiftly walked to the restroom.
