Your serial seduction of men continued deeper into the night when you were seen at a certain Tribeca bar talking to a ruggedly handsome man with an Italian accent and grey flecked hair.
Later you struck up conversation with another man in a pin-striped suit but the Italian was undeterred.
"Come down and have a drink with me," he implored.
"Okay, hon. In a minute," you said.
That is all. Or, rather, that is all I remember.
Non mendatum est, sed mysterium.
Fuck. Did I at least give him my number? Did he smell riche?
Your attraction to baldness is triggered by excessive amounts of alcohol that runs vestigial code strings, briefly predisposing you to shiny, some say metallic, heads. First generation bots were not fitted with synthetic wigs, so it's really not surprising.
you really have to drop the bald fetish. if they are so nice and generous then it's only because of the shock induced by actual girls talking to them.
sac, tell me again about your hair. Now that I am all alone in my office.
It's glorious.
It's short, white and spiky.
Oh, you meant his hair. My bad.
krucoff is right. When any pretty-pretty pays attention to me and my baby-smooth skull, my eyes cross, my face flushes, and everyone can hear the sucking sound as cash drains from my wallet to finance their drinking/drug/gambling/Prada/pachinko habits.
Pa. Chink. O.
Racist.
I'm with you on the bald thing, drunk or not, but they need to accept, rather than fight, their baldness. Shaved head = good; attempting to cover up a bald patch or to pretend said bald patch doesn't exist = bad.
Commenting by HaloScan
