Charlotte, NC

I know this blog is supposed to be about dating in DC, but I had to travel to Charlotte for work so I will throw this story in because I think it's hysterical.

I had to run down to Charlotte for a couple of days to check on one of my offices. I go down a couple of times a year and really enjoy the city. Charlotte has some great restaurants, the city is easy to navigate, and like most places in the "South" the people are very friendly.

A funny side note: My first night in Charlotte I ran to the mall across the street from my hotel for dinner. I had worked late and didn't feel like driving downtown to eat. I went to PF Changs to get a seat at the bar but it was full, so the hostess suggested I come back in 20 minutes and she would hold a seat for me. I walked around the mall for a little while and wandered into a shoe store, mainly because the two sales girls were really attractive. I talked to them for a bit then browsed the store. While I walked around I overheard the following conversation (paraphrased):

Clerk1: "I had a lunch date today."
Clerk2: "Really, with who?"
Clerk1: "You know that guy Rob who always comes in here, sometimes with a girl?"
Clerk2: "You went out with him, how was it?"
Clerk1: "It was OK, he asked me for my number last time he came in."
Clerk2: "How did it go?"
Clerk1: "He is nice, he works at [I don't recall where, but it was a store in the mall], BUT HE DRIVES A BMW!"

After hearing about the BMW, Clerk2 became just as excited as Clerk1, I think I even detected a tinge of jealousy. Is that it? All you need to get laid in the Mid-Atlantic states is a German car? I left the store immediately (Hertz had given me a Mustang for the week).

This, however, was not the funny story of the trip.

The next night I went downtown to a restaurant called Zink, where I usually go for dinner at least once when I visit Charlotte. Zink isn't the best restaurant I have ever been to, and probably not even the best in Charlotte, but the sushi is good, the atmosphere is casual, and they get a good crowd in the early evening, so I always end up meeting people. This trip was no different.

I sat down at the bar and ordered a drink and a few plates of sushi. While I waited for my dinner I started talking to a blond girl next to me who had just ordered dinner as well. She had just moved to Charlotte from Kentucky to work at one of the banks in the area, and this was her first day at her new job.

D11-Kentucky: Kentucky was semi-cute, sexy may be more accurate. She is hard to categorize, she was sexy, but in a porn star kind of way in that she was good looking, but looked like she had been "ridden hard and put away wet" a few times. She was on the short side, maybe 5'4", bleach-blond hair, big boobs, and a REALLY heavy accent, I almost couldn't understand her. She was well-dressed in a conservative suit (skirt, I'm not really sure how to describe it), and was maybe 5 years older than me.

Kentucky and I talked for a while and eventually shared a dessert (I know, weird, her idea). We both cleared our tabs and I asked her if she wanted to grab a drink somewhere. Neither of us knew the area very well, but we ended up at a bar across the street that has some pool tables upstairs. We ordered a couple of beers and I fed some change into the pool table. While I was racking Kentucky asked if I wanted to play for money, I said sure, and she suggested $20 a game. "Whoa, that's kind of a lot, really?" I asked. She said "yup". Since I consider myself a good pool player I agreed and said "I don't have a problem taking a girls money". Well, she killed me. We played another game double or nothing, and I did better but still lost. I won the third game only because she scratched on the eight ball. I ended up clearing our bar tab to call things "even" on our bets.

We left that bar and I said I had to get back to my hotel, but asked her if I could walk her to her car. Kentucky said she had walked to the restaurant from work, so I ended up giving her a ride to her place, which was about 5 minutes away. When we got to Kentucky's apartment she invited me up for a drink, and I agreed. Up until this point I didn't think there was much chemistry between us, but what the hell, it was either have a drink with her or sit in my hotel room and check email.

Kentucky lived in a huge apartment complex above a grocery store, I think it was a Harris Teeter, or Whole Foods. She didn't have anything to drink in her place, so we stopped at grocery store and bought a bottle of wine and went upstairs. When we walked into her place I laughed out loud, hard. The only thing I could see in her huge (by DC standards) apartment was a vacuum cleaner. She explained that the moving truck broke down and that everything was scheduled to arrive in a day or two. All she had were the clothes she brought with her in the car, an inflatable mattress, and two beach chairs on her deck.

I'll be very honest, at this point, and the only time in my life, I was actually a little scared. Things were going well, too well, really. I'm not a professional athlete or movie star, it's not every night that women take me home from restaurants, so I was feeling pretty good about myself. But when I saw the empty apartment I started to think that maybe I was about to have my organs harvested or something. I had a vision of waking up in the bathtub covered in ice, with my kidneys missing. I really considered bailing on the drink and getting the fuck out of there, but hormones got the better of me and I settled for a "grand tour". I know I sound like the crazy one now, but I made a point of secretly checking the closets to see if "Billybob" was hiding with a scalpel. The place was gigantic, three bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms, on the top floor of the building with a porch and great views of the city. It would have cost $5,000/month in DC (but was probably $900 in Charlotte). She excused herself so she could change and asked me to open the wine, which I did, but I also put the chain on the door to keep "Billybob" from sneaking in on me (again, I know I sound like the crazy on here, but trust me, it was sketchy).

She came out in a tank top (no bra) and tiny shorts. We sat on the porch and had a few glasses of wine, and were both feeling pretty tipsy. I went inside to use the bathroom, and when I came out she was standing there and kissed me. I was still paranoid about getting killed, but as usual the little head overruled the big head, and we awkwardly made our way to her inflatable bed. The air mattress may have been fine for just her, but with two of us on it it was like hooking up on the floor. I remember thinking "Jesus, dude, when are you going to grow up, you're hooking up on a goddamn rubber bed".

Kentucky was down to her thong at this point, and I only had my boxers on. She gave me a pretty bad hand job (so much for my porn star theory) that ended up all over her, then got on top of me and started grinding really hard. She was on top, dry-humping away, making all kinds of noise, when her eyes rolled into the back of her head, so I thought she was coming. Then, she leaned back and collapsed to the side. I sat really still for a second, wondering if she came or died. I got up, kneeled next to her and said "hey, are you all right?", but there was no response. I thought "Oh, shit, she's fucking dead, what are you going to do, this looks bad, really bad.". I put my face really close to her and could tell she was breathing, which was a relief. I jumped up and ran to the kitchen to get a glass of water for her. On my way there I thought of the scene in Pulp Fiction when John Travolta thinks "Mrs. Mia Wallace" overdoses. It's weird how your mind operates in times of crisis. Anyway, when I came back to the room she had rolled over on to her stomach, covered herself with a blanket and was snoring like a 300-pound lumberjack. I tried to wake her, I wanted to make sure she was asleep and not having a seizure or something, but she would only half wake up, and kind of swat me away. I decided it was time to go home. I didn't think she was in an danger, and it was really late.

I put on my clothes and left her place. I locked the door knob from the inside so no one could get into her place and was just about the close the door behind me when I realized the keys to the rental car were somewhere inside. That would have been bad! I ran inside, found the keys and got the hell out of there.

As I drove home I laughed at how ridiculous that whole night was. I got lost for about 45 minutes going back to the hotel, but didn't care because I was laughing so hard. I figure she either passed out while she was riding me, or faked it to get me out of there. Either way it is hysterical.