Mr_E

The year was 1992, or was it 1993?
Hawaii. I was stationed in Pearl Harbor at the time.
The setting : "the Jazz Cellar", a heavy metal bar in downtown Waikiki.

Me and my sidekick Brad are hanging out there listening to the local cover band.
They're not too bad, and this place stayed open past 2AM, so we'd usually wind up here eventually.

We have a table right up front, the music is blasting, and I'm on bourbon and Coke number 12 or so.

Me and B are rockin' to their cover of Ozzy's "Flying High Again", counting on another slow night, when out of nowhere an extremely attractive young lady plunks down at our table.

She looks about 23 or so, with a slender build, and long, straight, black hair.
She was freaking hot, and the raised eyebrow "Mr. Spock" look Brad gives me tells me he's thinking the same thing.

She yells at me over the noise asking if it's cool if she parks here.
Why, of course it's cool with us! Feel free.

So there's no further communication for an hour or so. She just seems to be enjoying the music and her big fruity "I'm vacationing in Hawaii" drink.
I'm enjoying both the music and the eye candy.

Then, it happened..

It was one of those events you have in your life that you just know you'll remember until the day you die... and you know you'll probably write about someday just because you think it was so damned cool at the time.

Like on someone's website. Hmph..

(We'll, this was before the internet was even accessible to the general public, but here we are.. go figure)

She looks at me, looks at B, and over the noise shouts "SO IS IT WRONG TO WANNA HAVE SEX WITH TWO GUYS AT ONCE, OR WHAT? I MEAN, WHAT'S THE BIG DEAL ANYWAYS? I'M ON FREAKIN' VACATION, RIGHT?"

If you're a guy, this is right up there on that list of things to do before you die.
(Granted, we actually would prefer the male/female ratio to be reversed, but ya takes what ya gets..)

Me and Brad are both staring with the "Did I just hear that correctly?" look.

"Beg pardon?"

"I'M ASKING IF YOU GUYS LIVE AROUND HERE, HAVE A ROOM, OR WHAT?"
.. this is now between songs, so the yelling makes me assume she may be just a bit loaded, but at that stage in my life, the morality of the situation escaped me.

"Yeah, we have a room close by here.", Brad lies.

I start digging through my wallet in a panic, hoping in have enough cash to run out and GET this supposed room we have as soon as we're sure this is really going to happen (we actually both lived onboard our ship).

About 15 minutes later, after more small toal, she excuses herself to the ladies room, stating she'll be right back.

We're convinced we're "in" and start setting ground rules, in typical male homophobic fashion :

"No gazin' or eye contact, if you can avoid it. That would be gay."

"Pick an end and we'll decide it we trade later, OK?"

"Make sure you absolutely, positively, don't come into physical contact with the other guy's junk, got it?"

"This is gonna rock!", etc...

... 15 mins later... she's not back.

We panic.

"Man, she bailed on us! That's F-ked up!"

No - I'd been watching the ladies room door, she hadn't come out yet.

A few minutes later, our hormones get the better of us.
After asking a few ladies if they've seen someone matching her description in there, with no luck, I go for it.

When it looks like it may be empty, I poke my head through the ladies room door, hoping not to get the s--- slapped outta me.

And there she is. Passed out cold on the floor, face down, snoring loudly.

Apparently, she was more hammered than even I suspected.
The sinking feeling set in immediately.
For a split second, the little devil on my shoulder poofed in "wake her up and do her anyways..."
Fortunately the angel pops up on the other shoulder and reminds me how f-ed up that whole idea is.

Dejected, I go tell Brad our hopes of being in our own little porn fantasy have almost literally been flushed down the toilet...

As I'm not a complete jerk, I did ask another lady to go in there and take care of getting her a cab back to wherever she was staying. I gave her a few bucks to cover it.

That incident became our little running joke about the "Dear, Penthouse" story that almost came to be.

*many more adventures the come...