Hand Cuffs?

Mondays are my hard days—I have my hardest classes that span from 1:30 until 9:30pm. To be frank, it blows. And I pretty much work my Italian tush off Friday, Saturday and Sunday, leading up to this tremendous Monday mother load of work. Anywho, Monday night? I’m hungry and ready to consume some sort of liquid that’ll probably eat away at my liver, slowly but surely. But hey, I’m young and I’m living on fumes. It’s wonderful. Salli and I first meet up at Smiths Olde Bar. If it’s not a Friday, Saturday or Sunday (go Steelers!), then it’s pretty much filled with older homosexual men. Immediately sensing the lack of potential male interaction, we mosey over to Hand in Hand, where the waiters know our drinks and our most absurd stories. You can’t go wrong at Hand in Hand. We take two steps inside the door, and immediately a young man approaches us, introduces himself and invites us to join his group. It’s his friend’s thirtieth birthday, and I’m having trouble detecting the amount of alcohol that had been consumed. It’s either not enough, or entirely way too much. After playing 20 questions to figure out what they do for a living, we find out that the whole lot of them are…wait for it, wait for it…Cops. These guys have forever changed my impression of Georgia cops, definitely for the better. After picking their brains about GA law, we relaxed some, and it became another successful S&J night. Of course, we ended up hanging out with Marion, Carlos and Matt, the beautiful bartenders at Hand in Hand.

Go to Hand in Hand, befriend the staff, and you will be happy forever. 

love,

june 

and have you met us?

It's Wednesday Night.

So, June and I were bored one day and decided to google the best singles places in Atlanta on Wednesday nights (why we were googling such a thing on a Wednesday is a whole other issue…we will address it one day I’m sure..).

We opted for Smith’s Olde Bar, a laid back and low-lit pub scene.  And upon arrival we encountered a very nice man who seemed harmless, and was very talkative with us.  He bought the 2 of us a drink or two, and was just such a refreshing person to talk to because we didn’t feel he had ulterior motives.  We decided we needed to call it a night before we drank too much to be able to drive, and as we were walking out of Smith’s, we were approached by a guy that I recognized from another bar.  What a small world.  Anywho, I was introduced to one of his friends, who was hott. Hott. Hott.  I was instantly attracted.  

We all hit it off, minus their 3^rd friend who was sadly the 5^th wheel. We ended up closing the bar down and were invited back to one of their apartments for a 3 a.m. rooftop hot tub adventure.  I had to be at work the next morning, unfortunately.  But, I mean, who passes up that adventure? Not us, FACT.  The night lasted well into the morning hours, but was surely a once in a lifetime experience.

Seizing the Carp,

Salli

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But alas. Calling it an early night is never is just that easy. Near the pool tables at Smith's, a guy recognized us, and stopped us. After a few blurry seconds, we realized that he was also sitting at the bar at Hudson Grille earlier that evening. (Hudson Grille: Brookhaven. Smith’s: Midtown. This was a huge coincidence that could not be passed up). They drank and we processed the booze already given to us until close. They invited us back to Ryan’s apartment. Both Salli and I had work in the morning, and it was Wednesday (Guys! It’s Wednesday…!). With minimal encouragement, we decided to go. It was one of those good bad decisions. Long story short: intentionally closed roof top hot tub, no bathing suits, case of beer, two girls, two guys…

Although some poorly endowed men still have the amazing ability to have and give amazing sex of all kinds…some just can’t. I don’t think I’ve ever been so disinterested during intercourse. (Is that awful to say? I’m sorry!)

Apologetic, mildly regretful,

June

Have you met us?