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Real Players versus Pretend Players (or PUA's)
And I take the liberty of leaving myself.
I then look around at my options. Not many of them tonight. However, Cheetarah does find me again...
Cheetarah: "Can you drive me home?"
Like a good girl, she's finally come to her senses...
Me: "Of course. Where are you parked?"
And we sneak out of the side entrance. No one is going to know that I left with her. Perfect...
Big Misha: "Assanova!"
FUCK. I thought I'd be able to sneak off with this chick...
Big Misha: "Where are you two going? Take me to my truck."
First off, why is he outside of the bar, and secondly, where is his shirt?
Cheetarah: "Misha, you can come home with me if you want."
Big Misha: "No. Just take me to my fucking truck."
We then spend fifteen minutes driving around downtown. Where did his truck end up being parked at? Right in fucking front of BoMA.
We start talking on the way back to her place.
Cheetarah: "Dirka Dirka Dirka" (of course these aren't her exact words because I couldn't understand what the fuck she just said)
Oh hell no, the bitch is speaking to me in devilish tongues. Is she casting a fucking spell on me? I look at her like she's fucking crazy. Then at the windshield. Out the side window. Turn my head back to her.
What the? What the mother? What the fuck...
Me: "What the motherfuck did you just say to me?"
Cheetarah: "I can speak Arabic."
Chick is fucking crazy. A fucking nutcase. I am dropping this chick and her car off, and then I'm leaving.
I get to her place and get ready to head off...