What do you get when you sic a tall gay Swede and a curvy single chick on the city? If you answered chaos, then you're correct.
Man, the shit Jan and I will do to keep ourselves entertained. Jan's happy because Henry's out of the hospital on Monday and he finally gets to play Florence Nightingale. So we headed out for a yummy Chinese dinner, then to Rush street, where it was a blur of clubs, sluts, fancy cars, and headache-inducing music, beers and cheering for the White Sox.
Then we went to a swingers party! What the fuck?
Swingers are FREAKS! There were people dressed in leather, suspended in mid air, and all the usual debauchery that takes place at these parties. Jan and I followed this couple we met outside of some club to this party in the western suburbs, where we were told that anything goes. Everything did. Jan and I pretended we were a couple, and thanks to his goatee -- which makes him look very masculine -- it went over. We were voyeurs. Nothing hot happened, really. However, I did let a very tipsy Jan squeeze juice from a lemon slice on my nipples and suckle it off. I couldn't tell if he was making a sour face from the lemon or because he was suckling a breast.
After the FREAK party, we went to a greasy spoon for a post-sinning meal. We had to take cabs home, because we were too drunk to drive or assemble the proper change to ride the train.
It's five in the evening, and I'm still feeling last night's insanity. Jan called an hour ago, and I answered, "Hello, Diana." He got it.
He sounded terrible. And tomorrow I'm going to work sporting bush.