When I start drinking tequila, not only do I do the dance to “Hot in Here,” but it makes most men go from zero to Patrick Dempsey in under three shots.

Mmmm

Enter Baldy McMan Boobs (BMMB.)

In a confused, homesick, alcoholic, overweight, unhappy, challenging stage in my life, I met a man. Oddly enough this won’t be the last time I find a totally under-qualified man to aid me through my discontent with a new move… my second post-move/disaster strikes/alcoholic stage, man-child who aided me through unhappiness I will write about soon and he was much, much worse than BMMB.

Shortly after moving to NYC I found a job in a bar. Not just any bar, but a bar that was so dangerously teetering on the edges of hell, I thought for sure they were going to push me in. The nasty bitch of a bar manager was Satan’s cheap whore herself. She was horrifying. After starting work at this bar, the tequila connoisseur in me started to blossom. Tres Generaciones Anejo, that’s my stuff. Like a bee to a flower, that shit was my nectar. My alcohol problem didn’t take off until about January though and this was only October, so I was just a blossoming alcoholic when I met BMMB.

Working right next to Madison Square Garden, we would get in a lot of Ranger fans. One particular night, my first night not actually training, a young man comes and sits at the bar before the game. He was funny and charming, not entirely cute, but his charm won him some points. I wasn’t drinking yet, so he was average looking, sort of chubby, whatever I didn’t pay much attention, he lived in Connecticut, enough said. Once the tequila began slowing to work it’s way into my blood stream, Connecticut turned into Paris, BMMB’s double chin turned into Eric Dane’s strong jaw, a car salesman turned into a corporate lawyer… it all sounded good. Which must have been what prompted me to say yes to joining him for a hockey game in another state.

even better

I really wish he had turned out to be Eric Dane.

Apparently it didn’t matter that I didn’t like hockey, nor did it matter that BMMB could be a crazy person that would leave me in an alley somewhere in Connecticut, I was game.

I should have known it was going to be a bad idea when I didn’t tell any of my friends that I was going to Connecticut for a weekend. BMMB and I talked/texted every day since I met him, so I was starting to get interested and I was totally excited to go to CT. The first weekend that I went was kind of fun. Granted I was remembering a hot, intelligent, lawyer, and when I got to CT and saw the receding hairline, man boobs, car salesman, I was a little disappointed. Good thing I had prepped ahead of time and got shitfaced on the train on my way there.

I called Anastasia while in CT and she judged me horrendously, but the weekend turned out pretty well. The next time I saw BMMB was in Long Island for another hockey game. This continued for a few weeks.

Side note: I had just met Anastasia, so the fact that she continued our friendship after the BMMB fiasco amazes me. Typically you show someone all your good cards upfront, you put your best foot forward, but with Anastasia… I laid it all out there. Within the first month she met the alcoholic side, the poor judgment in men side, the bitchy side, the total neglect of advice from friends side… basically she met the drunk bitch whore Alexis.

Anyways, during our budding friendship we both had full-time jobs so didn’t get to hang out much except on weekends, but I was spending mine in CT. Being the crazy, persuasive, pushy and kinda mean gal that she is, she proposed multiple arguments as to why I shouldn’t go to CT one weekend. She even put our friendship on the line, saying we wouldn’t be friends if I went. I’m stubborn and when I set my mind to something, I do it… so I went.

She was right, I shouldn’t have.

The second time I went to CT, the sober side of me started to see BMMB’s true colors. His  unjustified cocky-ass qualities started to show as well as the balding, man boobs. This time I wasn’t so drunk so I remember most of my trip. The sex was actually pretty good. He made some strange noises though, not grunting but like a mmmunting noise instead. It was a mmhmm plus grunting. Strange. And I had to watch his boobs swirl around as a woman’s does. I imagine that when a woman’s boobs do that, it is sexy. But when a man’s boobs swirl about as if two raw chicken breasts were sumo wrestling, then seeing his face scrunch up like a baby pug… well lets just say I definitely wasn’t even close to having an orgasm then.

When that was over the only thing that could make it worse was waking up next to him. It was one of those wake ups where you forgot where you were and you do a silent “AHH” in your mind when you roll over and see who you are lying next to. Ugh being sober sucks. Drool down his chipmunk cheeks and snoring like a moose, it was sad on my part. Too damn bad I couldn’t leave until he took me to the train.

I was starting to get disinterested in BMMB shortly after that visit, so it was time to bring in Anastasia. BMMB came to my bar for a hockey game and I invited the girls. Anastasia was so unbelievably unimpressed that she couldn’t contain herself while talking to him. After telling him he was lazy and unimpressive with utter disgust on her face, she told me I was retarded and that was that. BMMB got mad at me that my friends were “bitches,” I got mad at him for something… who knows, I was wasted. So I made out with a random customer at the bar and that ended that.

-Alexis Patron