Eternal conundrum: Hating people but needing sex

Male BFF: “Where do you want to go for drinks tomorrow night? Something low-key like Barcade, or something more involved like dancing at a gay bar where you’ll be fondled by beautiful gay men and I will have an experience in the men’s room that leaves me questioning some very fundamental things about myself?

Me: “Any place I can get drunk and find a dude or two to make out with, but that is also magically not crowded/won’t have a wait on a Saturday night.”

(If y’all ever have the chance, being horny, lazy, AND socially anxious is, like, the BEST.)

Followup email: “Also, if I’m going to get fondled, I think I’d prefer hetero. I’m not sure I could convince a gay man to put his hand up my dress. But hey, dare to dream.”

I think My Default Bar wins—they offer bacon-y cheese pretzels, froofy cocktails, and cake. Throw a unicorn* and some books in that joint and I’ll be set for life.

*Please don’t really throw unicorns. They’ll fuck you up. Little known fact: Unicorns are actually total assholes.

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More quotable trollops

“I let you fondle my chest, and it was a glorious moment for you — unmatched by anything you have heretofore experienced, including cake.”
— Olive Penderghast, Easy A