I went to Old Chicago for a couple of drinks tonight. I got busted in a “Do I know her?” stare.
We were sitting at the bar, and a red head moved into my peripheral vision. I glanced over, and thought I might know her. So I kept staring, even narrowing my eyes to tighten my focus. I inched closer and closer to declaring her an acquaintance. Just then, she looked over and caught me in my squinty stare. That’s when I realized I had no clue who she was, and she likely guessed I was just some creep who tries to squint his way into girls’ pants. Not a bad guess.
are you sure it wasn’t dave b?
You’re either calling me a liar or calling Dave B a woman. Not cool. Although, he does have a way about him…
Sometimes trying to squinting your way into a girls pants works, ask Dale