I know what you're thinking. My life is exciting and interesting, also full of ho stories. Tragically my parents think my love life is more interesting then it actually is. In an exciting twist I've left Prince William by the wayside and I'm now dating his boyfriend Prince Harry.
No. Instead my manager has gone wild. My “heterosexual” manager. I've known him for years. We go way back. In middle school everyone said he was gay, because he wore skinny jeans. I was like that's not quite how it works, but okay.
He was also going with one of my heterosexual coworkers. Who has a girlfriend and a baby at home. But, that's another story. His involves getting left drunk in the parking lot of the bar without keys to start the car.
My manager's predictions were right. He got hit on. He got drinks, but his mama must have never told him not to take drinks from strange men. Free drinks are great and all, it's an expensive world, but sometimes caution is a virtue. Although, I think he just got really drunk.
Now while at this bar he met a nice lesbian and he was convinced that she would love him. Not that he would convince her to like men, but that she would love unfathomably in love with him. The drinks were clearly affecting him.
This is where the story ends. My manager came into work on the Sunday shift, still a little drunk, and somewhere in his drunken phase he decided not to tel us the rest of the story.
I'm sure he passed out on the couch and the nice older gay retired to his own bedroom. That's why my manager had rug burn marks on his arms. A common injury to receive while drinking at a bar.
The best part of all of this for me was his explanation that this rich older gay was going to “invest in his business”. My manager is the person who asked off for 4/20 last year and on his vacation to Mexico I asked him to bring me back some heroin. His life plans include becoming the king of a drug cartel.
A cautionary tale of why not to get wasted at mysterious bars.