In the grand tradition of Saturday nights across the country, and in all-American manner, guys and girls let loose and run rampant, hoping to wash the week off of them and stock up on stories for the next. This past Saturday evening, in keeping with the pattern, we started out with dinner (a lady never drinks on an empty stomach) at a hole-in-the-wall place in the ever great eight-one-eight. One of the perks of living in this oft-forgot area code is the various diamond in the rough establishments, where a girl can eat like it’s going out of style, simply because the food is that good. While camping out during the 20 or so minute wait, we inadvertently arrived just in time for a pre-dinner show, aka the makeout sesh of the century. My bff and I were able to treat ourselves to what looked like could have been late night cinemax status, and it was anything but appetizing. I have nothing against a little PDA, but if it looks like two sets of lips were accidentally superglued together in some freak scrapbooking accident, you should be sent to the emergency room rather than the pre-dinner reception area.
Ladies, let me remind you that unlike the socially acceptable NBA & MMA, making out is not a spectator sport! In fact, it’ll have your unexpected opponents ready to tap out without a second thought. If the DOA label doesn’t match your Max Azria, go ahead and eighty-six that urge to get it on right then and there. Otherwise, you’ll be trading class for ass and that’s not a sacrifice I’d willingly make. I understand being caught up in the moment, believe me, but when in doubt just remember, a moment on the lips can be a lifetime of bad reputation. So, to keep off the radar and out of twitter updates based on your unforeseen almost four letter faux pas, use the five second maximum rule, and simply save room for an at-home dessert!