"Punch drunk"

The twenty-four ft oak door swung open as a party of three looked to be seated. The restaurant was dead on that cold morning and my assistance was not needed. I had been working as a hostess for the past few months at The Loft and really liked it. Not a bad gig at all. This morning I regretted going out with my friends that past evening.

“Hiiii guys. Welcome to The Loft. Do you need a table or a seat at the bar?
“A table please.” One of the females usually interjects in hopes of focusing on the brunch and not the Sunday football games. I remembered the new Sunday customers from the night before rolled my eyes as I directed them to their seat. Any normal Saturday night the scenario would most likely start out with a couple out to dinner first. He, usually has his arm stretched territorially over the back of the booth. A girl on his arm to make him look sought after, a good view of the bar and a drinking problem that would put Danny Bonaduce to shame, his night has been mapped out. This is the perpetual bar hunt. Drunken boys looking for drunken girls to woo with fat drunken tongues and booze spilled down their shirts.
Out here people are alcoholics and to explain what I see outside the realms of a structured establishment would make one swear to drinking celibacy. I severely admonish the preceding stereotype but how true it is. College girls come out looking like prom dates and after a few cocktails look like they were in the bottle of vodka, messy hair, ripped clothing, runny makeup and all. The battle of the sexes continues and here she is saying, “I can’t find a decent guy.” He says, “I need a chick that’s not a skank!” Well you idiots, the bar isn’t Match.com. The old guy from eharmony would not deem any of these relationships “compatible”. You go the best colleges in this city and still you don’t have a clue, jackass.
I am afraid to comment on the installation of this new found bar relationship. I enjoy witnessing these two said characters collide in what looks like a combination of heavy petting and grooming one another. Hands wrapped up in her hair as he whips her head to god knows what rhythm, she is holding on to the sides of his shirt partially for dear life. In a crude attempt to be sexy she releases from his grip and whips around to plant her ass in his lap. Together they hold on to one another’s hips to force each other one way and the other. This has been after five minutes of perfect strangers dancing. She whips around and together they suck on each other’s mouths as if they haven’t seen each other in months. To them, they are the sexiest people in the room.
I’m lucky enough to witness romance this twice a week. I do enjoy it, for the most part. Although beer goggles do have a way of making not only the world, but you yourself, look like the man, I ask that you all give it your best shot (wink, wink) to think of the sober ones around you, witnessing the rise of an unromantic empire.

"Punch drunk"

angelica harrison

Allston, United States

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