Happy Hour is Hot in the City

It’s Friday night and Blondie and I are having drinks on the porch—where else?—at Front Porch.  The sun is setting right at my back.

Blondie looks over.  “Your ass is emanating more heat than usual.”

Diggity and Phoenix join us and order some refreshing cocktails.  There is some discussion of the appropriate drink for 6 p.m. in the sun.  Diggity orders both a rum and Coke and then a Bloody Mary.  It seems she can’t decide.

Blondie looks at the Bloody Mary and shakes her head.  “I like spicy, just not with my alcohol.”

“Just with your men, eh?” I ask, taking a swig of my vodka Sprite.  I have a cup of maraschino cherries which are creating a lovely new flavor sensation—and also, my drink looks prettier.  Presentation is very important, people.

Phoenix spys Smooth Operator and hails him over to the table.  Smooth Operator and I review a night out many moons ago during which he insisted on going to an “after-hours” bar that wasn’t.

“Oh, yeahhhhhh.  That didn’t work out, did it?” he recalls.

“No, they wouldn’t let us in.  And then you insisted on driving me home.”

“No taxis necessary—I got late night covered,” Smooth Operator says.  He looks at Phoenix.  “Is it inappropriate to ask if you’d like to taste my greyhound?”

“I think so,” I answer for her.  It looks like Smooth Operator is working his magic on yet another poor girl. 

Smooth Operator’s friend is busy making fun of Smooth’s pants.  “What—no casual Friday at your place of business?”

“Nope,” says Smooth.  “It’s microfiber slacks Friday.”

A little while later, Phoenix, Smooth Operator and Blondie take off for dinner.  Diggity’s people arrive next.  I love this happy hour in shifts.  It’s perfect!

“What are you drinking?” NotFunny asks.

“Vodka, of course.”

“Don’t we all need a little vodka?” DF says

Yes, indeed. I think we all do. The discussion turns to the movie Up, which Diggity really wants to see.  I refuse.  “It’s a kids’ movie, isn’t it?” I maintain.

“I don’t know,” NotFunny observes.  “I mean, it could be porn.  The name is Up?”

“Balloons: more childlike or more pornographic?” DF asks.

We think this over while taking big pulls off our drinks.

The topic turns to music.  Diggity hates Pete Yorn, so she wants to know what I listen to.  We debate the relative greatness or not-so-greatness of Prince.  I think “1999” was brilliant, but the guy is really weird.

“He’s tri-sexual,” I say.

“What do you mean?” asks NotFunny.

“Oooh I think he’s so hot!  And passionate,” Diggity says.

“It’s not passionate when he comes up to your shoulders,” I tell them.  Uh-oh, perhaps I’m sort of drunk.  Prince isn’t really that short.  Is he?

“Hey, maybe the symbol is a big question mark for his sexuality,” DF offers.
I think DF might be right.  And suddenly, Lifetime Movie Network is calling me.  I’m out!

-Shakira 06.27.09