So, I hooked up with this chick from Craigslist who said that she wanted to have a good time, and asked me if I could bring some "party favors."
"Yeah, sure, I can bring some favors--like wax lips and spider rings and vampire teeth, right?"
She laughed, this totally sexy purr-laugh. "Yeah, that's it. Baby, my favorite letter is 'e'. You got it?"
"I think I see where you're coming from--'Sesame Street,' right?"
"Yeah, that's right."
Man, Sesame Street and vampire teeth, this is going to be one kinky-ass party, I thought.
She gave me her number, so that I could call her later. I was totally psyched.
Well, seeing as how it was Saturday night, I was a little confused about where to pick up some favors. I called my friend G-Dawg, who seems to know all about these things.
"Yo, whattup G-Dawg?"
"Whattup, yo?"
"Check it out, I'm gonna kick it with this girl from craigslist who wants--"
"Craigslist?! You didn't send her a picture of your dick, did you?!"
"Yeah, but I also said I'd come through with some pary favors. Know where I can get some?"
"Dude, I'm dry. Head over to 16th and Mission. You can hook up down there."
I really didn't think that he had any vampire teeth, anyhow.
So I did that. I went down to 16th and Mission at about 10:45pm, and everything was fucking closed. Just all these fuckers asking me if I wanted to buy Chiva.
"Dude, you got any vampire teeth," I asked this one guy. He looked at me like I was out of my mind. "What about any wax lips?" He nodded his head and pointed at this skanky woman with long, greasy hair wearing bike shorts and a low-slung lycra tank top.
"She got what you need," he said.
So I approached this woman to ask her if she had any vampire teeth, when I could see damn well that she didn't, because she didn't have any of her own goddamn teeth, and she sure as shit didn't have any place, aside from her snatch, to stash anything. I'll tell you right off the bat, I wasn't going to TOUCH anything that got within ten feet of her snatch, either, let alone a set of vampire teeth that came out of it.
"Whatchyuneed, baby? You wanna date?"
"Uh, no, thanks." I walked away.
Well, I walked around for a little bit, and found this Mexican guy where Valencia Gardens used to be, with a bunch of Pinatas hanging off the fence. "Se venden?" I asked him.
"Yes, I'm selling Pinatas," he said, in perfect english. His tone smacked of "don't patronize me, asshole," which I wasn't. I just like to be clear when I'm communicating.
He didn't have any pinatas that looked like a Sesame Street character, so I picked one out that looked like Spongebob, and bought it.
Here's the kicker. When I went to go hook up with this girl, I found that she had given me a number that was out of order or didn't work, or something. So, now, it's Monday and I'm stuck with this fucking Spongebob pinata that I don't really have any use for. If you're out there, girly, I've got your party favor. If you still want to hook up, and it's not too late, give me a call--you've got my number. I can even put some candy in the Pinata for you. Also, just so you know, if the phone company issues you a number with 555 as a prefix, it's not going to work. Just want you to know that so that people can get in touch with you in the future.