The Slut

Every Friday night for the last 20 years, the party girl made the rounds at the local bars, getting smashed, singing karaoke, and finally, at closing time, selecting the lucky guy to take her home where they had wild, random, stranger sex.

Now pushing 40, as she sits alone at the bar, used up and no longer attractive or desired, she asks the bartender, “Where did everyone go?”

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drinking, with or without company

With sarcasm dripping from every word, he said, “It’s good that you don’t drink at happy hour, when I’m the only one sipping on something stronger than Diet Coke with a lime wedge.”
“Getting good and hammered at happy hour is too expensive,” she replied, and chugged the rest of her wine.

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Rating: 7.0/10 (5 votes cast)