Welcome to Charleston, SC

Beads and her roommates had a party at their house Saturday night, I've never seen so many hot girls in one place. It would have been the best party in the world if I wasn't "dating" one of the hosts.

I showed up early for the party to help Beads and her roommate pick up the keg. When I got there a flip cup table was set up in their yard and the prerequisite bag of red Solo cups were stacked on a table. This was my first sign that I was about to attend a frat party.

We picked up the keg and carried it into their house, and Beads and her roommates treated me like I created fire or invented the rotary engine because I knew how to tap it. I had no idea that was such a valuable skill set, for one brief moment I was the smartest human on Earth. They literally stared in awe, basking in the reflective glory of my keg-tapping greatness.

Fast forward three hours. In the back yard are thirty five girls and five guys, all hammered, and all from Charleston, SC except for myself and Beads. It had to be the single largest concentration of Charleston residents outside of Charleston. The obvious lop sided guy to girl ratio led to some pretty funny antics. Girls were being super aggressive, I don't think any of the single guys there left alone.

I had three girls introduce themselves to me during the night. The first time it happened I was a little caught off guard because I had to explain what I was doing there. The girl and I chatted for a second, then she said "So, who do you know here?", and I realized I hadn't come prepared to answer that, a crucial misstep on my part. I said "I'm a friend of Beads. I, me, I'm, here with Beads. I'm seeing her, Beads." Yes, I know, very smooth. The girl got the point and walked away rather uncomfortable with the exchange. The second explanation was similar, and by the third time I simply said "I'm dating Beads". While technically true, it didn't exactly roll off the tongue.

Later in the evening I turned around and saw one of the really hot girls standing in the corner of the yard holding her shirt up while two other girls snapped pictures. I couldn't help staring, her body was basically perfect, there wasn't an ounce of fat on her and she had the most delicious boobs. When I got caught blatantly gawking I said "What are you guys doing", and the hottie said "I was showing them what's under my shirt", and she did a little seductive hip gyration. What was under her shirt was not much. She had on black leggings, black leather stiletto heels, a black bra, and a black silk shirt that hung down a little past her hips when not hiked up to her bra. She dropped her shirt back down and said "I just got it, do you like it?", I said I liked it, but referred to her shirt as a "dress" because it kind of looked like a short dress. She turned around, pointing her ass towards me, bent over, and said "It's not a dress, it's a shirt. If I wore this as a dress my butt would hang out when I did this". She was right. Her friend, the photographer, said "Yeah, and you would look like a slut". She stood back up and said "Well, I am", and they giggled and walked away.

I don't want to talk about that anymore...

We played flip cups for a few hours until the keg was kicked. Most trainers will tell you it takes at least ten thousand repititions to cement muscle memory. I was shocked at how quickly I slid into a comfortable one-n-done flip groove. If you figure there are about 2 ounces of beer in the cup, times ten thousand, divided by twelve ounces in a beer, that 1,666 beers needed to acquire flip cup muscle memory. Hmmmm, that's a calculation I wish I hadn't done.

In the morning, while we cleaned up, Beads reached into the fridge and said "Someone drank all my OJ!" I hadn't had any coffee yet, and was a little hung over, so I didn't respond. She repeated it, and I said "So what?". She ranted about the OJ for a solid 7 minutes before I repeated "SO WHAT?" Of course there was no good reason other than she's kind of a spoiled only-child. She probably had 50 people at her house at the party's peak, they drank everything in the house that was wet. Why are you even bringing it up? She does this a lot and it bothers me, it comes across as very selfish behavior. If you don't like people drinking your OJ, don't buy it or don't invite people over. I'm mad that I even have to write about it, it's that absurd.

Last night I took Tiny on a bike ride, then back to my place for dinner. I've come to the conclusion that she has an eating disorder. She doesn't actually eat anything, she just pushes it around the plate. She will pick up a piece of food with her fork, shake it like she's trying to get something to fall off it, then put it back on the plate and pick up another piece of food. Then, repeat. Oh man, what else can I run into? I'm not equipped to deal with eating disorders, I just like food too much.