The OTF Tale Thread, Volume II.

[Not Fade Away]

Time to revive this for another go-around.

If you want to refresh your memory on the original OTF Tale Thread or you missed it the first time, Click Here[/URL].

I think cj is going to start us off.
This post was edited on 5/6 2:02 PM by Arussif(GetAdminCookie() != 0) {document.write(' (Revisions[/URL])');}

 

[clubjockey]

Okay... Tale #1... repost from before, so don't bitch (long)

Bloomington, Indiana 1991.

As I think I have related in another one of my stories, I had been living a happy life in Madison, Wisconsin right up until about two years before the events of this story. It was then that I wound up paying the wages of thinking with my johnson and the major-hottie psycho girlfriend blew up in my face, forcing me to load my possessions in my car and split town under an undeserved dark cloud of suspicion (that’s a sordid tale I’ll never tell).

I had returned to the bosom of my de-facto hometown, Bloomington, where my folks and my best mate lived. In so doing I had unwittingly tossed myself headlong over the side of the deep, dark, empty swimming pool of crappy dating.

Bloomington is a great town if you’re under 24 or 25 and in some way connected to the University… I was 27 and very much NOT connected to the University. I think I gave thumbnails of some of my more noteworthy dating horrors before, so I will spare you a re-telling… But I will go a little deeper into the precursor of one of the more uncomfortable sexual experiences I’ve had (the point of my story).

I used to spend a crapload of time in the Video Saloon. That was my hangout. I’d basically go and shoot pool for beers and hang out with my mates. I was a markedly better pool player than the average drunk bojab that wandered into that place, so I could go all night on a couple of bucks and be giving the free beers I’d won away at the end of the evening when I couldn’t drink anymore. One night I was up there and this slick moron rolls in with this really attractive little blonde woman stuck to his arm in an uncomfortable (to judge by her expression) way. The slick was eminently forgettable, but the woman was hot and she kinda stuck in my (and most of the other slack-jawed losers like myself) mind afterwards. And damned if she didn’t show up a week or so later minus the slick loser.

To make an already overly long segment of this tale shorter, Kari (the blonde’s name) decided she liked me… this should have been an indication that the Gods-of-the-relationships-between-women-and-men, who were not by biggest fans to begin with, still had me on their sh&t-list and were out mess with me yet again, but I think I’ve said I’m not good with hints, and I’m never good with ominous signs, particularly if I’m being distracted by a girl.

Partly she liked me because she was a very strong pool player herself, and she could always get a decent game from me… partly she liked me because I’m all cute and cuddly and everything… and partly she liked me because, unlike all the other guys that shot pool up there I didn’t say things like “Hey hon… I wanna cover you in whip cream and lick it off real slow” (a true offer I heard some a-hole give her) in the first 6 minutes of conversation, or suggest a different sort of wager instead of beers. Anyway, this girl was great… she was hot and she shot a mean game of pool, and she hung out in the Vid, and she liked me, and she was smart and interesting… She’d flirt with me all night and sit on my lap and look into my eyes and never leave my side… And her favorite topic of conversation was her upcoming marriage to some guy in Canada.

Seriously… She had the ring and everything… See what I mean about the Gods-of-the-relationships-between-women-and-men? They hated me for some reason.

She was engaged and the date was coming up in the fall and she spent considerable energy trying to get me to “be her boyfriend”… My mind was not healthy back then…

Anyway, one afternoon, Kari and I are up in the Vid playing pool and there isn’t anyone else in the place because it’s early (Vid heats up at 6:00 with after-work drinkers and at 11:00 with the night shift) when in rolls my best mate Tim and his littlest sister, Kelly. Tim and I grew up together in Bloomington and we’ve been like brothers since we’ve been 14. When I first met Kelly she was 10. I overhear Kelly asking Tim if Kari is my girlfriend… a question that makes Tim laugh heartily at my f-ed up predicament and say something like “Well sort of… he’s having a little trouble with that one right now.” Tim then goes on to fill his baby sister (she’s 23) in on the story of me and Kari out of Kari’s earshot and mine.

About a week or so later, I’m at home minding my own business and the phone rings… its Kelly… she wants to go to the Peanut Barrel to hear Bill Wilson (I think that was who was playing there) and she wonders if I’d like to come along, if I’m not doing anything that night. “Sure” says I. I don’t have anything going on, and Kelly’s pretty cool… I can go drink with her, no problem.

Let me back up a bit… When Tim and I were at IU together, and Kelly was 16 and 17, our buddy Bruce (same guy that burned the shack down being stupid in that long tale of camping in the desert) was obsessed with her. He really, really, really had the hots for Kelly. He about died of terminal wood once when he spent the night at Tim’s house and Kelly got up in the morning and was wandering around the house in a shortie and her underwear. Tim didn’t say anything to Bruce about it, but you could tell he was just the smallest bit uncomfortable with one of his mates lusting after his baby sister. Our friend Eric and I made heaps of fun of Bruce for his obsessions with a high school girl… You see, Kelly was like my own little sister in a “I grew up with you” way, and I completely failed to notice that she was insanely hot, even at 17… Never even began to think of her like that… at all. Foreign concept. At 23, Kelly was SMOKING hot, and I was completely oblivious to it… I’m not joking. I have female cousins I think are hot, but never once thought of Kelly like that.

So Thursday night rolls around (I believe it was Thursday) and I meet Kelly at the Peanut Barrel. She’s got this lion’s mane of ash-blonde hair and she’s wearing this skin-tight black top unzipped to the middle of her chest… and she has the equipment to be able to put that top to good uses… and perfect fitting blue jeans and black boots… Perfect makeup. She was screamingly, breathtakingly hot (I hold to this day that she was the hottest girl I ever… you know…). Clearly she’s in full battle gear and ready to make a kill. Guys were openly gaping at her in the bar. I didn’t notice …at…all. Best mate’s little sister… she’s still 10 years old in my mind… I’m totally blind to it.

We get a couple of beers and start talking… this, that, and the other thing… small talk… nice evening… Kelly’s really nice and fun to hang out with… We have lots in common and some common stories and stuff… Very enjoyable time.

To hear her tell it, she’s working it veryveryvery hard… She’s tired of dating these loser guys she’s seeing, and Tim is her favorite brother… the one she wants to be like (big Irish Catholic family, 7 kids, Kelly is youngest), she’s always been interested in what Tim likes and she always likes his mates and such… and she used to have a secret crush on me (I find out all this a few days later, by the way) and when I came back to town and she came back from Ball State, where she’s at school, she decided she really wanted to have a go with me. She’s giving me the “Come and get me” looks… no effect on me… She’s got her hand on my thigh… no effect… She’s dropping hints like atom bombs… no effect, I suck at hints and I’m just not in the same dimension mentally with her. I’m out having beers with my de facto little sister… I’m worrying about keeping guys off her. Finally (and this is another one of those mental snapshot memories I will take to my grave with me), she gives me a look like “You dumbass!” and says “Oh to hell with it!” and leans over the table and kisses me full on the mouth. Not a nice friendly “you’re just like my brother it’s nice of you to hang out with me tonight” kiss… This was a kiss not unlike Mt. Etna laid on Pompeii.

Couple of things happened at once… First my mind became not unlike that old game show “Lets make a deal!”…

“Well, Jim here is our big winner!… Lets see what’s hiding behind curtain #1!”

I instantly became aware of WHAT was sitting across the table from me and had just planted a ferocious “I want you!” kiss on me. Having your reality scrambled like that is pretty discombobulating. My best friend’s nice little 10-year old sister has been replaced by a very scary, uber-hot woman.

The second thing that happened was the classic little devil and little angel popping up on either of my shoulders…

Devil: “Okay, you moron… lets review… You’ve been sitting here with the hottest thing you’ve been this close to in 3 years, and she’s been practically begging you for anything… and you haven’t noticed. Now she just planted a mind-bomb on you…. THE GATES ARE BREACHED! GO FORTH AND PLUNDER!”

Angel: “But she’s like your own sister! Remember her when she was 10 and she was playing with dolls? What would Tim say?”

Devil: “We’re all adults here!… Lets do some adult things!… She’s BEGGING for it!… Tim won’t care! HIT IT!!!!!”

Angel: “You’ll hate yourself if you do it!”

I think I was speechless for several seconds… I then managed some Porky Pig sounds, I think… “Yibityibityibity…uuuhhhh…” Finally I think I came out with something brilliant like "Uhhh… so, you wanna get out of here?” Rarely has a moment completely stripped my brain of thoughts like that… I doubt I could have told you much passed my name in that moment.

By the way… The Devil won that little debate pretty handily, not that I probably needed to say that.

So we go out and get into her car (a beater Audi Quattro) and get better aquatinted for a few minutes… then a new problem presents itself… Where do we go? Can’t go to HER house… she’s staying at HOME for the summer… Her mom, who’s known me for 13 years is there and so, probably, is Tim… or he will be in and out of the house… So that’s CLEARLY not going to work… Can’t go to my place because my roomy is there with his buttcheeks screwed to the sofa watching stupid stuff on TV because he’s sick with the flu….. Damndamndamndamn! This is NOT funny! This is making both of us quite cranky, in fact, because we are both highly motivated… very highly motivated… Finally she says “Look… it’s late… You go home, but my mom goes off to work at 5:15 (nurse) and Tim will be gone by then (work)… so get a few hour’s sleep and show up tomorrow morning.”

I have never been good at getting up early in the morning… but hoo boy was I up and in the shower and out the door at 5:00… Get to Tim’s house at 5:15 and no Tim… Mom… yes Kelly!…

But here is where insanity begins to set in… Spend all morning doing it with my best friend’s little sister… in his house… A house I practically grew up in… After the afterglow wears off, things do not feel quite right…

I’ve been BAAAAADDDDDD…

Crap! She’s hot… she wants me… she’s all happy and cuddly… I feel like I’m on the run from the cops. And I also know I gotta tell Tim about this… he can’t just kinda stumble upon it… That’s a fun conversation!

Jim: “Hey…uhhh… So… ummm… What’s up?”

Tim: “Not much… Say, did you and Kelly go to the Peanut Barrel last night?”

Jim: “Uhhhh… yeah…yeah we did… Umm… I gotta talk to you about that one… see… uhhh…”

Tim: “What?”

Jim: “Ummm well… ummm… see… we kinda… uhhh… you know… umm… Can I date your sister?”

Cripes! My mental state is deteriorating quickly. You know how it is with a new physical relationship… you want to do it ALL the time… Each time I start feeling like I’m a criminal… I’m getting a twitch in my eye… A big part of me is finally getting over my mighty-little-man-brain and is starting to realize this is not a very comfortable relationship for me to be in… If it keeps up I’m gonna start hearing voices. But she’s SOOOOO hot!… Jeebus Cripes! Best body I’ve ever had the good fortune to be with… really good in the sack… But I’M GOING TO HEEELLLLLLLLLLL!!!!! But she’s walking around in this expensive French lingerie with that BODY, and she knows how to DO stuff!…. But I’m going to HELLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!

In another 2 weeks I’d have been reduced to a feeble minded mental patient, and they’d have shipped me off to some state hospital doped up on chemical straightjackets…

But I was saved…

I was working one day, not thinking about much, in a record store on Kirkwood, and this woman walks up to me and asks me sort of out of the blue if I want to have a beer with her at Nick’s… And 11 years and six months and 2 kids later, I’m doing marginally better than I was before…

Do not date your best friend’s little sister…

 

[rolo tomasi]

Added per request of Aruss....

Failing to post some sort of glance at 3 nights in Sin City would be as reprehensible as your single friend who refuses to give details about their latest hookup. If we can not live vicariously…how can we live? I'm married dammit, you are out their hooking up with chicks from coast to coast while I am stuck living Groundhog Day. Don't get me wrong, Groundhog Day is great…but I still need the details.

Obviously I'm just joking about my gracious wife who was kind enough to let me go to Vegas with 4 friends. She is a beautiful angel from heaven and I am blessed to have her in my life. Do you need to read any further to decipher that I lost a considerable amount of money in Nevada? Anyway, my top 20 random moments from my 60 odd hours in Las Vegas. Don't ask me how or when they occurred, I'm still coming out of my stupor.

This is nerdy but few things are better than getting the standby flight that you HAD TO HAVE. Even better is when you randomly get upgraded to first class for no apparent reason and at no cost to you. At that moment I thought everything was possible.

Infants should be forced to wear a muzzle on planes. I'm sorry but some wailing 1-year-old really ruined my first class standby upgrade karma. Please note I'm not a child hater, there just needs to be laws banning children from flights. Don't we still have trains? Trains lend themselves to wailing. In the future, parents should be given the option of either muzzling their child at the first crying incident, or be forced to immediately parachute out of the plane. I think this is fair and works out well for everyone.

The tram at the Vegas airport is one of the best damn rides in the country. Save yourselves the trouble of driving to some crowded, wailing child infested, amusement park and buy a round trip ticket to Vegas just to ride the tram. Newark has a tram but it is nothing compared to Vegas. 1.1 miles of riding pleasure. Thank me later.


A Limo driver trying to negotiate fares to keep my friend and I from waiting in a 10 minute cab line scared me more than the time I saw Star Jones in person. Dude was freaking creepy. He rolls up to us and whispers "I got a wide open limo downstairs for $45 dollars. Leather seats, privacy, good music, and if you want…jello shots." After that he winked at us but it wasn't a normal wink, it was the "anything goes" wink. I'm trying to guess how he assumed my friend and I were "anything goes" types. I felt dirty, porny, and somewhat like a man whore. Best limo ride I've ever had. Noooo I didn't take the ride. Jesus, dude was eerie as all hell. We ran from him quicker than Star Jones from a health club.

Cabbies are hit or miss. The cabbie to the hotel was about as exciting as George Will,yet with matched a description for Sirhan Sirhan. The dude that drove us to a…ummmm… establishment later was a mix of Bill Clinton and Frank Sinatra (yet also looked like Sirhan Sirhan). The guy had more stories than my wife after a parent-teacher night. Of course we had also each had about 11 beers at that point so perhaps my memory is hazy.


Showing up at the hotel and realizing you are already down 100 dollars because you had some ill conceived blind faith in the NCAA tourney performance of Syracuse is a downer. Unfortunately it was a sign of things to come.

You get the whole Vince Vaughn and Jon Favreau vibe when you are sitting at a $5 dollar blackjack table at 6AM and realize the sun is coming up. My buddy and I noticed the sun at about the same time and busted out "Vegas, baby…Vegas" in unison. Good times.


I thought the whole Nic Cage in Leaving Las Vegas performance was completely over the top until I woke up with the cold sweats one morning at 10AM and realized my head felt like a drum kit being pelted by the one armed dude from Def Leppard. Only he still had two arms and was using concrete slabs to do the bashing. I hate the whole thing where you are so hungover that you can't freaking sleep in any position. The cold sweats and inability to sleep led me to start the day after 2.5 hours of sleep. 4 excedrin, 1 centrum and 54 glasses of ice water later I was drinking again, and oddly enough my head was fine. The turnaround only took 45 minutes…

The Wheel of Fortune slots are more addictive than crack cocaine. At least I assume they are as I have never tried coke even though it would have explained a lot if I had when I look back at some of my ill advised 3 team parlays during the trip. Anyway, the Wheel of Fortune people know what the hell they are doing. In case you haven't played before…the slot is thin but very tall, kind of a Shawn Bradley type slot that you can see from anywhere in the casino. If you play the max bet (2-3 credits depending on the machine) you have access to a free spin option should you land on it. Trust me when I type that when you land on the free spin option you have reached a pinnacle in your life. At least in a drunken, degenerate sense. The machine makes this terrific sound like you just hit a 3 pointer to win a game mixed with a cheering crowd and the announcer bellowing "WHEEL OF FORTUNE". Then the thing spins until stopping on free points ranging from 25-1000. Trust me, one hit on 200 (which in my case equaled 200 dollars as I was still up and financially capable of playing the dollar slot) and you will spend hours pursuing that next "WHEEL OF FORTUNE" cry from the machine.

Continuing to spend hours on the Wheel of Fortune machine may lead you to become obsessed with it and plug your 200 dollar "winnings" back into it. You might even come back to it later albeit it in a different casino and lose another hundo. It might even be your last hundo forcing you to make the walk of shame to the money machine the following day. Stupid Wheel of Fortune. I'm glad Vanna White is dead.


One night a few of us were playing blackjack at a dive casino called O'Shea's. In our stupor we continually called it O'Sham's which didn't seem to please the pit boss. Anyway, we were playing the crappy one deck blackjack where you can hold your cards and they are blind to the dealer for no apparent reason. Did I mention it only pays 6:5? Thus the O'Sham's designation. One of my friends was really struggling to breathe, let alone play cards. He looked like Chris Farley in his autopsy photos only he was still managing to lose 10 dollars each hand. Just after telling me he couldn't read his numbers anymore the dealer dealt him a blackjack (remember, the cards are turned down so the dealer doesn't know what you have) and my friend HIT. He got a 10 and said he would stay. The dealer finishes up and goes around the table to see what everyone has and realizes my pal has 31. The other players laughed, I laughed, the O'Sham's pit boss laughed, good times. It was only as the dealer took my 20-dollar bet (after the double down) away that I realized the 31 had taken away the ten I desperately needed to mix with my 5 and 6. The 7 I drew for an 18 wound up falling to the dealers 19. Funny, at that point I thought twenty bucks wouldn't matter…have I mentioned that I love my wife?

The Venetian really cheats by employing nothing but cocktail waitresses who look like Charlize Theron, Penelope Cruz, or Monicca Bellucci. Oh, they look like those 3 and they all have 36 C's minimum. As if the whole city isn't rigged to rob you blind they have nearly naked vixens walking up to you with free drinks. Then they treat each of you as if you were the man of their dreams. You really know you are starting to lose it when your waitress is smiling at another guy. Why is she bantering with him like she does with me? I thought we had something special.


Free drinks? Yeah, Charlize Theron walks up to you 20 times in 8 hours and you are getting free drinks. The first 5 you tip her a buck. The next 5 you hand her 2 bucks. The next 10 you can't remember…then you are sad when the next waitress starts her shift and you didn't get to say goodbye to the last one, but realize that you better give Penelope Cruz a big tip to start out or she won't like you. I can't believe that people wind up in alcohol rehab. Hallucinations, flight of ideas, over tipping because a girl smiled at you and did that thing with her hair. Man, I need a drink.

Saturday morning I jogged through the strip around 9AM. I was half drunk but I'd always wanted to jog in Vegas, plus I'm running the mini in Indy and I wanted to live up to my training schedule. There was a girl running who looked like the Charlize Theron waitress from behind. I chased her down the strip in jogging stalker fashion but despite my pleas she wouldn't turn around. Only upon passing her did I realize "she" was a guy with a man ponytail. I probably won't jog again in Vegas…ever.


You know the end of Rounders where Matt Damon makes it all the way back and Malkovich does that awesome "check, check, check, check, check…all night with this check, check, check bullshyt"? That was what I was screaming at Vegas on Friday and Saturday. Between the ill advised Wheel of Fortune debacle, black jack at Caeser's, and losing out on 140 bucks in a 3 team parlay because Illinois went 0 for the last 10 minutes of the second half against Duke, well, let me just type that I pondered the whole Kurt Cobain thing. Even though I still think he was murdered by his crack whore, no talent, wife. Anyway, all I can say to Vegas is "check, check, check, check, check…all night with this check, check, check bullshyt".

You know the stories you hear about the guy losing for 2 straight days and then rallying the day before he leaves? Well, those are horse bleep! Check, check, check, check…thank God my friend picked up the dinner tab…check check check check…stupid non-covering Oklahoma State…check check check check…Rolo refusing any drinks from Monicca Bellucci because he fears he will waste the money he needs for cab fare to exit Sin City on tips…check check check check…


The black jack at Caeser's thing…I set a limit of hitting only the 10-dollar tables because I wanted to focus my spending on sports bets and tips for Charlize Theron types. Anyway, breaking that rule to sit down at a 25-dollar table was a big mistake. Especially when I recall that my friends urged me not to, as they were all hungry and wanted to hit an early morning buffet. While I was losing 10 straight hands (potentially more as my memory is "hazy") they were spending 4.99 for pancakes and bacon. On that solo walk back from Caeser's to Harrah's I looked like Michael Douglas in Falling Down. I don't think I killed anyone…other than Independent Rolo for the next 6-8 months. "I love you too, dear. Sure, dinner with your parents on Saturday night sounds great."

Paying for hotels in Vegas is a waste. Are you ever in them for more than 4-5 hours at a time? Why bother staying at the trendy Pirates of the Caribbean hotel when you could have stayed at the Knights Inn for 39 bucks? Or slept in a Harrah's bathroom stall - as some scary guy was doing on Sunday morning at 5AM. Hell, he probably went home with more bling than I did.


I have yet to give females enough props. Good God, there are hotties all over Vegas. I was hoping for more of a Girls Gone Wild type environment with Snoop Dogg doing the filming but I appreciate the 2-10,000 assorted hotties I saw during my 60 hours in Vegas. One question, average rack size increases each year, right? Has anyone done any studies on this? And is it all surgical? Have genetics taken over? Are bras that powerful? What in the wide wide world of sports is going on?

You know you look bad when the second question the cabbie says after asking you which airline you are flying out on is "Man, you look like you haven't slept in a week. Do you have enough money left for the fare?" He winked and laughed after saying that to let me know he was kidding. Sadly, I was suddenly concerned and had to check my wallet to see if I had enough. Then he asks me if I got to play Wheel of Fortune. The Michael Douglas in Falling Down rage kicked in and I finished the sob. I just hope they don't find his carcass rotting in the desert. I might be kidding. Check check check check…


A bonus 21 for anyone still reading. Hell, I had to have 21 in the spirit of the city that just took me to my knees. Are there any flights in the world more depressing than flights out of Vegas? Especially at 6:30 AM on a Sunday? The entire group of passengers looks like they've just been through 3-4 wakes. People are near tears and basically expecting the plane to crash to top off their weekend. Then the stewardess walks down the aisle and she looks like Kate Beckinsale. Suddenly all is forgotten. Yeah, sure it is. Vegas baby, Vegas.