Whoring for whiskey and melted cheese

Emailing a friend who’s been to this bar with me a bunch of times…

“This guy’s OkCupid profile says he owns a ‘craft beer and whiskey bar in Philadelphia.’

[screenshot pic of guy wearing bar-branded t-shirt]

“DUDE. Will fuck for whiskey and nachos!”

“Somethin’ ’bout platinum, irrefutably…”

Pre-holiday haircut and color: “What doesn’t kill you only makes you blonder…”  

That free wine they provide is half the reason I keep coming back to this salon. (Post-apartment move, it’s annoyingly far.)

The other half, as I texted a friend:

: “My hair salon is next door to that bar with the cheesy pretzels, so I think a to-go order after my appointment is a must, no?”

: “Otherwise you’re just wasting your life, honestly.”

I can’t waste my life, you guys.


(Upon reflection, I wish I’d asked Friend to join me at the bar. We could’ve taken my faboo hair for a test run, and she’d be a great wingman. Plus, I reiterate, cheesy pretzels.)