DC...again! (Part 2)

The seminar started on Friday, after which I went back to the hotel to grab a nap, then headed out to do the infield. At the end of the night I ended up winging for a student who managed to snag a super hot two set back to his hotel. I assumed that it was the same as my hotel. I was wrong, and I paid the consequences for it.

The four of us ended up hanging out in the student's hotel room, which meant something had to give if anything fun was going to happen. The student kept shooting me worried looks from across the room, as if to say, "Help, Big Business! What the hell are we supposed to do?" Never fear, student. Big Business is here.

BB (to obstacle): Let's go have a cigarette outside.

Obstacle: Good idea. (to target and student) Let's all go outside and have a cigarette.

BB (to self): Fuck. That didn't work.

-outside-

BB (to obstacle): Come here. I want to show you something funny.

I dragged her down the street away from the target and student, and kept the conversation hot so she wouldn't notice that I had nothing funny at all to show her. It was working, but then the target texts obstacle to come back, though, so we all head back upstairs.

BB (to self): FUCK! This is bullshit!

-back in the hotel room-

BB (to obstacle): Have you seen that thing on youtube with the baby getting kicked by the break dancer?

Obstacle: No. Is it funny?

BB: You've got to see it. Let's go back to my room and check it out.

(How I was going to explain that I wasn't a guest of this hotel is beyond me. I was going to wing it.)

Obstacle: Why don't we just watch it on that computer?

BB: The wireless doesn't work on that computer.

Student: Yes it does.

What the fuck, student? I'm trying to help you out.

Finally, I get the obstacle outside for another cigarette and move her quickly so she doesn't invite the world again.

Outside, I do a little experiment. I go into some deep, deep comfort. Real heavy shit. Broken dreams. Hospitalized family. Dead friends. I tell a story. She tells a story. We reveal and relate. Then, just as we've got out little bond going, I drop this bomb:

BB: Man, this is deep. You wanna hear a rape joke?

Tension broken. Obstacle laughs and looks back at me with that, "Who are you?" look, which basically means that the hook up in the elevator is inevitable. I had just learned something: this kind of emotional journey is girl crack.

I start to pull into the hotel bathroom, but target texts obstacle that she wants to leave.

Well, as Decartes once wrote, "No evening is fully wasted if you touch at least one titty."