Pussy Blocked

It’s late, probably 1:40, a friend of mine is at the bar, with another guy. Hm. Looks like this might be a hook-up. She’s got her tab behind the bar, it’s past last call, I run it, put it in front of her, say great to see you, have a nice night. She says, but I wasn’t done yet! I want another drink. I say, babe. It’s past last call. It’s time to start wrapping things up. She gives me a look to say she’s disappointed in me. What can I do? Rules are rules, players.

Five minutes later, the dude is gone, she sits alone, I’m cleaning glasses. She says, Clint, you totally ruined things for me. You’re supposed to help me in these situations. I say, what do you mean? She says, I was trying to hook up with that guy! Sorry, I say. I look over past the bar, to the booths, the guy in question, is at one of the booths, with another girl, making out. My friend at the bar sees me looking, looks over, turns back around, says, damn it, Clint! I say, sorry, kid. You can blame it on me. She says, yeah, and that’s blank too. I look, yeah, it’s blank. HER BEST FRIEND. I say, oh that hurts. She’s pussy blocking you.

She says, DAMN IT CLINT YOU’RE GOING TO BLOG ABOUT THIS, AREN’T YOU???!!

Yeah, I say. And I’ll call it pussy blocked. That’s a title people will click on.

-Clint Curtis

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