Let it be known that I use the phrase on the prowl to refer to any occasion in which I leave my apartment in search of hotties. So basically, every time I leave my apartment. It's a constant search.
Saturday night, I went out on the prowl with a good friend, G.
For the record, there are just as many weirdos offline, as there are online. We came across some real characters on our night out.
But the good news is, I didn't dance.
You're welcome.
Because my armpits have been unshaven for weeks - oh you read that correctly - weeks my friend. It's an absolute jungle under there. Please, tame your hard-on. This left me with two options: wear a cardigan all night or limit our bar hopping to venues with extremely poor lighting.
We went with the latter.
Who hangs out at dark bars? Creeps. and girls with hairy armpits. and men in houndstooth pea coats wearing studded sunglasses at night. and married men. and men who start fights over spilled beer. and men wearing leather skinny ties. and men whose only pick-up lines are "gotta smoke?" So not only are they not offering to buy us drinks, they're also attempting to bum something off us.
Whoever said chivalry was dead, might have been onto something.
