Go for the strong-guy in the back with the tattoos

If I try to get a drink I just know they'll ask for an ID; what a drag. I guess I'll have to get some guy to buy it for me. There's all sorts of guys and they're checking me out, so I've got to decide quick, or they'll decide for me.

A guy in a corner booth catches my eye. He's sitting there drinking and smoking and he's gotta be alone because he isn't talking to anyone. The thing I like is his arms. They've got some serious muscle on them, unlike my spindly boyfriend. If the two ever met this guy could rip Anthony's arms off, easy.

I take a breath, catch a few guys really paying attention to me as I do, and with a wink at them I make my approach.

Getting closer makes it easier to see him. He's older than I thought, maybe even in his thirties, but he's wearing a pretty tight shirt that shows terrific pecs. As he pulls the cigarette out of his mouth I see it's not a cigarette at all, it's a joint, and the knuckles have something tattood on them. Definitely not like Anthony.

I give my hips a little extra wiggle, and stop at this booth, taking just a moment to make sure he doesn't have buddies or worse, like a girlfriend. No one's there so I sit, confident.

"Seat's taken," he says.

"Not anymore," I tell him, giving him a wink.

He blows on that joint and I like my lips in invitation. He ignores it and leaves the joint in his mouth, actually glaring at me!

"You look like you could use a little company," I say, and in case he's a little dense I slip my foot from my shoe and wiggle it against his crotch.

Imagine! A sexy girl like me gives him an open invite and what does he do? He jumps up, drops the roach he'd barely started, and runs towards the back. Can't a gal get laid anywhere anymore? Have all guys become limp-dicks?

Sighing I pick up the joint. I'm not much of a drug-user, but I've heard marijuana's pretty harmless. Besides, after the day (and month) I've had I could use a bit of relaxation.

I guess I must be hidden from the room pretty well; I get through the entire thing without anyone coming over. I even manage to down the drink he left; some foreign beer from the taste - yuck.

With a sigh I slip out, not even bothering to be cautious. If I flash someone maybe they'll make a move. God knows I could use it. With the joint tossed into the empty bottle I decide I'll head to the bathroom after all.

I'm no sooner out of the main room and in the little corridor where the bathrooms are than I notice something...