Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Never Leave A Restaurant Without Trying To Pick Up The Waitress

E@L was out for dinner with the incredibly delectable VirginPornStar tonight in Darling Harbour. Damned woman brought her boyfriend AND a chaperone along, severely restricting E@L's chances of taking her up on many of her teasingly double-entendre'd txt and Facebook messages... Which, though she would swear otherwise, were obviously meant, like Miss Havisham's taunting profferings of Estella to young Pip (aka Phillip!), [spoilers ahead] to merely set him up for a broken heart...

So E@L was forced to consider the serving staff for accompaniment in any post-prandial entertainment.

The metrosexual softly-spoken waiter had an eye for J, the rather flamboyant (gay but doesn't know it - but hey, don't tell him, it would DESTROY him) and highly intellectual economist (oxymoron?) chaperone on our table - I mean have you ever seen a Uni student wearing cuff-links SERIOUSLY - and E@L's generous tip later on hardly swerved the waiter's attention. OK, cross that of the list - even if E@L were gay, he'd get no satisfaction there.

One of the female serving staff had earlier attracted E@L's notice, but naturally, sigh, he managed to blow his chances with her in spectacular fashion. How? Read on.

The red wine was flowing, the conversation drifting from computer controlled derivatives short-shelling to (f/m) blow-jobs and scrotal encirclement, when E@L's medication afflicted bladder started sending Urgent signals of distension. He excused himself and moved to the back of the place, in the general direction of where he assumed the loos would be sited. As he passed by the area where the lady waiters hung out to chat between ignoring customers, he saw that the one he fancied was very conveniently right in front of him. So he smiled (she no doubt saw it as a lecherous old man's leer) and said:

"Which is the way to the Ladies?"

She started to point and then hesitated...

"OMG - I mean the Gents!" said E@L and he grasped her arm in a gesture of moral support, pretending to collapse with embarrassment.

"I know what you meant," she laughed, and pointed the way.

OK she thinks I'm idiot, slinking away, E@L thinks.

Another chance for hot steamy sex (with another person in the room) shot to pieces...

But was there a chance, really? You, and the below signed, will never know...



Anonymous said...

My dear, you don't give yourself enough credit. All you had to do was ask and we would have gladly waited till her shift was over. Then you could have propositioned her or something.

Alternatively I could've gotten into the tax with you, and left the other two boys to find their own way home. Then again if I'd have done that I would have missed out on the second "dessert" afterwards.

expat@large said...

No, I'd shot my bolt, proposition-wise, with her.

Far be it from me to deny you your just desserts. The big question is: How many Play Ultras did you guys burn your way through?

rambeaux said...

Oh. I thought you'd pissed on the restaurant floor or something...
That little interaction sounds like the perfect 'in' to me.

expat@large said...

And I was still trying to get VPS to dump the young hard-bodied men for a few minutes with old saggy-bottom E@L... no such luck. Should have stuck with the fauxomosexual waiter.

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