the belair lounge

i don't want to get out of these sweatpants until it's absolutley necessary. perhaps never. they make my ass look kinda awesome.

let me tell you about the belair lounge:
-fancy old jukebox (don't try to play otis redding, it doesn't work)
-old dudes who buy us drinks & tell us fucked up stories.

steve is italian,56 & he works as a "recruiter" in the loop. he looks more like walter matthau than anyone i've ever seen. he loves to tell dirty jokes, trick girls into kissing him on the cheek & slow dance. he pinched my ass yesterday & then looked over apologetically & said, "i just wanted to do that." jessica claims he licked her. he salts his beer when he's nervous.

milton is 78 & german. he's no more than 5'5" & always wears a plaid shirt & a ball cap. he has slicked back white hair & a matching white moustache. milton loves old movies & dean martin. he knows a german love song ("you, you, you are my true love...YA! YA! YA!") & he sings it to me when he's tipsy.

marty is 49, african american, & a cop. he once told me that "p*&sy is like gold, & you have to get as much of it while you're young as you can." he claims he dated six women at a time when he was my age. he has 4 ex wives. he loves the song, "super freak."