...A Bar, and a Pimped Out Pick Up

After the show, I ordered a martini from the bar. Later I thought, wow, my tolerance has really dropped. I wasn't just tipsy. I was approaching loaded. That didn't stop my from performing--and rather well I must say-- in the post show improv jam. Afterward, the bartender told me he'd put 4 shots in my drink. Thanks, I think.

As we walked from Chinatown to Old(e) City we saw it. Turning onto market street was a most glorious pearl blue gray tricked out pimped out pick up truck you could ever dream of, piloted by a Miami Vice integrated hetero couple. Though they made their truck dance the lambada, they were cold as ice as young women approached their ride to say hello. We stood on the sidewalk and applauded as the pick up rolled and strutted to the river, lighting up the pavement beneath it.

The spitfire advised me to approach guys by remarking on any remotely positive trait they exhibit. She then demonstrated this technique on many random strangers as we walked up Market Street. "Hey, check out what's on your plate, sidewalk diner." "Hey, I like your motorcycle helmet. (stroke) It's so smooth and shiny." The weird thing is, this actually worked for her in that everyone smiled and no one ran away or tried to hit her.