Sac Arrow
Touchdown! Greaser!
- Joined
- May 11, 2010
- Messages
- 20,372
- Location
- Charlotte, NC
- Display Name
Display name:
Snorting his way across the USA
In an area where I wouldn't normally expect to find one. So, Sac Arrow checks himself out of the office for lunch, drives over to the next freeway exit to get some gas and pick up some lunch at Carl's, and spies this thin blonde wearing a sheer, white miniskirt so short that a guy in a wheelchair would get a free show, walking out of the 7-11. And mind you, it's 60 degrees outside. It's not blazing hot.
So I pull in to the gas station and start filling up the car and thinking all the while "damn, that s*** is HOT! Wonder where SHE'S going? Office building? Hell no, that skirt would get a state employee sent home. And then, so, like there I am, standing next to the pump, breathing the fumes of the oxygenated summer blend that I know is still sitting in the tanks, and guess what comes around the corner? You guessed it! And you know where she went?
The motel. There is a freakin' pump & scump MOTEL on the corner. Okay it's not that bad, it's like three stories and nicely remodeled but she walked, all the way from the motel to the 7-11 and back. Granted, the 7-11 is just across the street, but it's a busy street, and it takes a while to cross. She on a mission.
All the while, all I could think about on the way back to the office was one of three things: Four. Okay nine.
1. Some dude is going to get his world totally ROCKED. He's probably, right now, performing the dark ritual ceremonies that result in the endousiation of holy orifices with forbidden love juice in violation of established creeds and principles.
2. Some dude is going to pay upwards of $400 an hour plus the room charge and plus whatever he gave her to make a condom and liquor run when he could have gone to the massage parlor and spent a quarter of the price. I think. I don't know for sure. I might have seen prices for that kind of stuff in the backpages or maybe a drunk airline pilot told me that.
3. What's this neighborhood turned in to? (Oh wait, it's always been a bad neighborhood) but that... provider... was upscale.
4. Wait a minute. Maybe that WAS a drunk airline pilot making a value decision. Scrub the flight, save your career, and perhaps a couple dozen innocent lives whilst receiving counseling and therapy. I say a couple dozen and not hundreds, because if he's ho strolling out here, he's flying for the regionals, not a major carrier. Good on you dude.
5. It was actually a sober airline pilot. No, cancel that. A sober airline pilot would have saved his money and hit the massage parlor instead.
6. I wonder if I could make it to the Golden Dragon Spa for a session before lunch time is over.
7. I wonder if she needs a job. If she's making four hundred bucks an hour, she doesn't need us. Then again, a pay cut might be worth it to avoid the crushing weight of a fat, hairy, smelly slob that hasn't brushed his teeth since last October huffing and wheezing on top of her. But wait a minute, a drunk airline pilot would look more like Tom Cruise. A drunk Tom Cruise singing about losing loving feelings.
8. These generalizations are very gender biased. We haven't established that the drunk airline pilot is actually male. It could be a female drunk airline pilot, just wanting to... explore things. Alcohol will do that to you right. Damn, I wonder if I can snag some returned epaulets from the Halloween store and maybe we can work up a deal.
9. I totally forgot to stop at the Carl's to pick up my burger. It was literally right next to the gas station.
So I pull in to the gas station and start filling up the car and thinking all the while "damn, that s*** is HOT! Wonder where SHE'S going? Office building? Hell no, that skirt would get a state employee sent home. And then, so, like there I am, standing next to the pump, breathing the fumes of the oxygenated summer blend that I know is still sitting in the tanks, and guess what comes around the corner? You guessed it! And you know where she went?
The motel. There is a freakin' pump & scump MOTEL on the corner. Okay it's not that bad, it's like three stories and nicely remodeled but she walked, all the way from the motel to the 7-11 and back. Granted, the 7-11 is just across the street, but it's a busy street, and it takes a while to cross. She on a mission.
All the while, all I could think about on the way back to the office was one of three things: Four. Okay nine.
1. Some dude is going to get his world totally ROCKED. He's probably, right now, performing the dark ritual ceremonies that result in the endousiation of holy orifices with forbidden love juice in violation of established creeds and principles.
2. Some dude is going to pay upwards of $400 an hour plus the room charge and plus whatever he gave her to make a condom and liquor run when he could have gone to the massage parlor and spent a quarter of the price. I think. I don't know for sure. I might have seen prices for that kind of stuff in the backpages or maybe a drunk airline pilot told me that.
3. What's this neighborhood turned in to? (Oh wait, it's always been a bad neighborhood) but that... provider... was upscale.
4. Wait a minute. Maybe that WAS a drunk airline pilot making a value decision. Scrub the flight, save your career, and perhaps a couple dozen innocent lives whilst receiving counseling and therapy. I say a couple dozen and not hundreds, because if he's ho strolling out here, he's flying for the regionals, not a major carrier. Good on you dude.
5. It was actually a sober airline pilot. No, cancel that. A sober airline pilot would have saved his money and hit the massage parlor instead.
6. I wonder if I could make it to the Golden Dragon Spa for a session before lunch time is over.
7. I wonder if she needs a job. If she's making four hundred bucks an hour, she doesn't need us. Then again, a pay cut might be worth it to avoid the crushing weight of a fat, hairy, smelly slob that hasn't brushed his teeth since last October huffing and wheezing on top of her. But wait a minute, a drunk airline pilot would look more like Tom Cruise. A drunk Tom Cruise singing about losing loving feelings.
8. These generalizations are very gender biased. We haven't established that the drunk airline pilot is actually male. It could be a female drunk airline pilot, just wanting to... explore things. Alcohol will do that to you right. Damn, I wonder if I can snag some returned epaulets from the Halloween store and maybe we can work up a deal.
9. I totally forgot to stop at the Carl's to pick up my burger. It was literally right next to the gas station.
