Pitbull Little Noah

February 8, 2012

I’m a little pitbull.
Defender of the little man.
Advocate for the underdog.

Which is why on Saturday I took on a 6’2 “Bro”.

It was girls night. We started with dinner and drinks, drove back to my place for freshening up, then walked down the hill for a lively scene and more drinks.

I was set on perfecting my “Have you met Ted?” line. It’s a simple wingman move… Tap on the shoulder of the guy standing next to you, ask him if he has met one of my beautiful friends and then turn around to continue my conversations with other friends.

Saturday night: 75% success rate… That is if you define success as meeting a guy at a bar.

Let’s roll with it.

One of my girlfriends ended up connecting with a guy and they talked for nearly the entire time we were there. As we kept checking in on her, they were hitting it off… flirting, exchanging numbers, inching closer and closer together. But after an hour our friend came back upset… “he has a girlfriend.”

Five minutes later he came over to apologize and ask for his coat back. She said she didn’t have his jacket.

Bro: “I know you have it, I saw you leave with it.”
Friend: “I don’t have it.”

Pitbull Little Noah steps in.

Me: “E, do you have his jacket?”
Friend: “No.”
Bro: “I saw her pick it up.”
Me: “She doesn’t have your jacket.”
Bro: “She took it.”
Me: “As you can see, she isn’t wearing a jacket and it’s not in her hand.”
Bro: “I want my jacket back.”
Me: “It isn’t here”
Bro: “I saw her.”Me: “She says she doesn’t have it so back off!”

Bro leaves. Bro’s friend comes over heated. Demanding the jacket.

Me: “She didn’t take his jacket!”

It was clearly time for us to go. These guys were only going to keep coming back and I, along with a few other girls, were over the scene.

All of the girls grabbed their jackets and purses.

But there was one left over.

In my lap.

His.

Oh, frak.

“We’re leaving NOW.”

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