One look at Randy’s jacket and you could tell he had had something of a style bypass. But Randy honestly believed that a faux zebra skin jacket made him look just the coolest thing in the cocktail bar.
With false confidence, and the downing of three swift bourbons, Randy believed he was irresistible to women. This was clearly a perception on his part rather than a reality on everyone else’s.
Apart from a bad jacket, Randy also had rings on each of his ten fingers. Look as you may, there isn’t a single book or magazine on good dress sense for men that dictates you wear Walmart rings on each of your fingers.
However, none of these style transgressions were sufficient to convince Randy that he was not the second coming of Elvis, so when he started to take a shine to the cocktail waitress who served him his fourth straight bourbon, trouble was never going to be far away.
“Hey honey, why don’t you shuffle your cute little ass over here and get me some peanuts to chew on” drawled Randy.
The waitress gave him a look that would freeze vodka, but nonetheless prepared him a dish of peanuts and brought them over.
“What’s your name sweetheart?” asked Randy, placing a faux zebra skin cowboy boot on the table.
“Rhonda” said the waitress without a trace of interest. “Rhonda…pretty name…now Rhonda baby, I want you to do something else for me..”
“What’s that?” said Rhonda, irritated.
“Well, I need to tell it to you quietly so that not everyone esle hears – I don’t want to upset a lot of other ladies in this bar.”
“Whatever you have to tell me , you can tell me while I am standing here.” said the waitress, refusing to budge.
Randy shrugged and proceeded to tell her what was on his mind. “Randy and Rhonda go together real well – don’t you think? Now listen, I’ve got to tell you something in private and I would really appreciate it if you come here and let me tell it to you.”
Rhonda sighed and walked closer to Randy. She bent down to listen to want he had to say. Randy took this opportunity to take a good look at her cleavage and also put a hand on her ass while he whispered to her “with a fine ass like yours I bet you’d be really be something in the sack, why don’t you come upstairs after you finish work and we could get it on.”
Well, Randy got what was coming; a good, tight slap right across the face that really stang. Not only that, a gorilla of a man in an evening suit approached him and told him he was going to have to leave.
Surprisingly Randy did so without a fight, and returned to his hotel room nearby. Once inside the bathroom, he removed the ginger wig and sideburns, the glued-on beard and moustache and the brown contact lenses. In the bedroom he removed all the rings from his fingers, the faux zebra jacket, the boots, and shucked his shirt and pants.
Reaching into the spacious wardrobe, he pulled out a white tuxedo, black pants and dress shirt, and slipped on highly polished black loafers. He returned to the bathroom , brushed his teeth, rinsed his mouth and groomed his well cut blonde hair.
Applying a splash of Bulgari Soir, he looked at himself in the full length mirror. 6’2” with eyes of twinkling azure blue , he looked something like a cross between Daniel Craig and Steve McQueen. In short, he looked like liquid dynamite.
He returned to the same cocktail bar. The gorilla at the door almost saluted and eagerly opened the door for him. Once inside the bar, the hubbub of conversation immediately ceased. Everyone believed a superstar was in their midst. Some wondered if they should ask for his autograph.
Randy seated himself in the exact same seat as before and casually waited to be served. It did not escape his attention that Rhonda and two of the other girls were fighting among themselves as to who would be the one to serve him. Rhonda succeeded as it was her assigned table and she approached him.
With an upper class English accent Randy ordered a Martini. He wanted to add ‘shaken, not stirred but decided against it.
“Yes sir” said Rhonda. When she delivered the drink he thanked her and paid for it, giving her $50 for herself. Rhonda grinned shyly, and just as she was walking away, Randy said “May I just mention something?”
“Of course sir” said Rhonda, walking closely to him so as to hang on his every word.
Randy whispered to her “I bet you’d be really something in the sack, why don’t you come up and see me when you finish work.”
Rhonda blushed and went a little weak kneed. “You’re inviting me to join you , sir?”
Randy looked around him and smiled “Well I don’t see anyone else here, do you?”
Rhonda giggled girlishly and said “I finish at 2am – is that too late for you?
“2am it will be Rhonda” said Randy charmingly.
“May I ask how you know my name, sir?” said Rhonda.
“Oh, when you went to get my drink I heard your colleague say “Rhonda, you’re one lucky bitch. First you get the biggest creep that’s ever walked in the door, and now you’ve got the biggest hunk.”
Rhonda blushed once again and smiled, “Oh, ain’t that the truth!”
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