A couple years back I was at a going away party for a friend that I used to work with. It was at some no name bar in midtown, you know the ones I mean...part Irish pub, part old man bar, always playing pop music from the '90s and serving free buffalo wings. Men in loose ties guzzle beer and pick up on women half their age, and a lot of office rendezvous begin in such places.
Viva the midtown bar!
I showed up a little on the late side, probably already a little buzzed, and greeted all of old friends. A couple guys that I had crushed on at the office (non tie wearing ones, might I add) were there, which made the night even more thrilling if not just to be able to flirt and be girly for the night.
One of the crushes, a 22 year old guy we'll call Derek, had recently broken up with his longtime girlfriend and was most certainly on the prowl. I was not disappointed, as you can imagine. We spent a lot of time standing outside smoking, and at one point the conversation somehow turned to my underwear. "So what are you wearing under there?" he coyly asked.
Well, you know me, I couldn't just TELL the man...so I reached into my skirt and showed him my black lace thong.
For the rest of the evening, I was called BLT-for duh, BlackLaceThong, and thus began a long and interesting evening of debaucherous behavior.
We would sneak off into dark corners and make out, not knowing if someone was going to catch onto our scandalous ways. Somehow we managed to escape disapproving stares of others, but eventually the sneaky dark corner kissing was getting old.
He suggested we get out of there, and I, being the demure and proper lady that I am, suggested we go to my place.
A cab was hailed, and snogging ensued in the backseat. I remember trying really hard not to think about the fact his hands were on my butt, because the reality was starting to set in..."oh my God, I'm going to have sex with Derek, my ex-coworker and almost little brother. WTF?
I lived in Queens at the time, and we were stuck on the 59th Street Bridge for what seemed like days. The kissing continued, and I finally made peace with what was about to happen, and just sank into it.
The cab ride took forever, and by the time we got back to my place and up the stairs, we both sort of realized what we were doing.
"Oh my God" I said. "Are we really going to do this?"
He, of course, was all for it, and went for my boob.
"No, no, really, we can't seriously do this." I sat up. He sat up. He looked around and it dawned on him that he was in my house, on my bed, and I was about to do things to him that he couldn't have even imagined a couple hours prior. It suddenly seemed like the worst idea in the world to both of us.
Sadly for him, he lived in New Jersey, and now had a 2+ hour commute home.
Ah, the power of the black lace thong. Never underestimate it!