Shirtless? Details!

Okay, I have debated posting this one, because it is so out of character for me, but... what the hell.

Thursday night. Dan and I are off Friday, Brian C. has made arrangements to go in late. We meet Dewayne (also off Friday) at Full Moon Saloon for the monthly Full Moon Party, featuring happy hour prices all night, and (ahem) dancers on the bar.

(Yes, I know the actual full moon was Saturday. The 'Moon holds these on the nearest Thursday. Which is fine with me.)

Our favorite bartender, Dennis, is tending the indoor bar. We grab a drink, then Dan plays Brian and I at pool, which he still wins, while we wait for Dewayne. Back inside, I swear — no, really — that I only have three rum-and-Cokes over the course of the entire evening. Problem is, they are rums. With a dash of Coke, and a lime.

Sometime before midnight, I find that I am (ahem) tipping the ... dancer. And enjoying myself immensely, thank you very much.

In fact, I realize that I am somewhere past sober, and get a bottle of water as my final evening's beverage. Dennis serves the water, and then a more adult beverage to our driver. We're not leaving anytime soon.

Sometime after midnight, a gym-acquaintance named Tim — by now, shirtless, and standing by at least two or three other very-good-looking shirtless men — points at me with a look of faux shock. I walk over and he acts amazed I have tipped a stripper. Here's where it gets muddy, because shortly after I find that MY shirt is off as well. Another Dennis, this one a patron (and pleasantly bearish, may I add) asks how I feel about being picked up. I stammer, "well, my husband is right here by me ," and he says, "Oh, no, I meant this:" and proceeds to lift me off the ground and place me on his lap. Where I sit and chat with him and the others until probably about 1:30 in the morning on Friday.

I awake mildly hungover (a first for me), and actually have a queasy stomach most of Friday to pay for it all. At some point in the evening, Dewayne left without my noticing, but not before he noticed my shirtlessness — which he inquired about by text-message to my phone mid afternoon. His 2-word inquiry became the title of this entry.

Dan and I attended Tiki's birthday dinner Friday night. When approached by a server bearing offers of slushy fruity drinks, we both responded: " No. More. Alcohol."

But wait, there's more. Brian and I foolishly return to the scene of the crime, sans Dan, on Sunday afternoon. I am considerably more reserved in my drinking (and we're there longer), but Dennis-the-patron appears again, and now we are part of a circle of friends. Brian gets to play darts (something he misses, and something I just won't do — between throwing like a girl and lack of depth perception, I avoid the dartboard), I chat with people. We wander to Parliament, and at once point I had two guys (and I never determined what their connection was, or if they even knew each other) attempt to pick me up — I mean, the OTHER kind of pick me up, like what you think of when you hear "pick someone up" and "bar" in a sentence.

We return to the Full Moon, and spend at least an hour dancing with Dennis, Tim, and another new face, Gary (I think...). Next thing I know, it's 10:30, and about an hour after when I'd rather be asleep.

Sunday was about the most fun I think I have ever had going out. This would be part of the "very smiley weekend" previously referenced.

Monday was very difficult this week, though.

There you have it. Comment away.