Andrew DiMarco

Excuse me, miss, is this seat taken? Normally I wouldn’t be so forward, but I saw you from across the bar and couldn’t help but notice all your friends seem to have left. Allow me to buy you another round? Truly, it would be my pleasure. A woman as gorgeous and thoroughly intoxicated as you should never have to drink alone.

Please, my dear, I insist! The Thirsty Mule is no place to be without company. Not for someone like you, so lovely and so clearly incapacitated.


Look around—most everyone in this place is with someone. Why should you, the most exquisite, drunken creature in the room, be sitting here all by yourself? I have to say, that is a stunning noticeably disheveled dress you’re wearing. When I looked over and spotted those stained splashes of what could only be strawberry daiquiri, I must admit I was mesmerized.

Right then I knew I couldn’t possibly leave without at least coming over to introduce myself, because—how do I put this?—someone struggling to keep such a ravishing figure in an upright position isn’t something you come across every day. I would have always regretted that moment when I chanced to find such an attractive, completely hammered woman, and then walked away instead of coming over to buy you another drink and, perhaps, a beer to chase it down with.

Because you, darling, are a rare jewel. From the moment I saw you stagger out of the ladies’ room and drape your slinky, alluring form over the Big Buck Hunter machine in an effort to regain your balance, I could just tell you were something special. The way those long legs moved as you stumbled toward your bar stool. The dazzling glint in your bleary, half-open eyes. The adorable moment when you went to drain the last of your drink and awkwardly jammed a straw into your face. Ah, and that sweetly slurred voice of yours! Every incoherent word rings in my ears like the dulcet tones of an angel.


My love, I could listen to you intermittently mumble and hiccup all night!

How can it be that a girl with a smile as beautiful as yours and a scent of rum hanging around her as pungent as yours has been left all alone? I must admit, I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you all night, watching as you seductively sipped your cocktail, finished it, threw back another two, did those shots of 151, and then pounded yet another. Sweetheart, the next one’s on me.

Say, while I have the bartender’s attention, let’s make it a double. Last call is but a moment away, and we’re only just getting to know each other. Sitting here watching you fail to brush that gorgeous auburn hair out of your face as you totter erratically back and forth on your stool makes me curse myself for not coming over sooner. But I’m not one to complain. I’d rather have a short time in the presence of such a perfect, inebriated flower as yourself than none at all.


Oh, gosh, how rude of me! Your friends have all disappeared, and I haven’t yet displayed the basic courtesy to offer you a ride home. No need to worry, my dear. For someone so pretty and so utterly shitfaced, I’d be more than happy to drive, darling. Darling? Darling?

Darling, hello?

Assuredly not a problem, my sweet, let me still help you out to my car. A beauty as striking and as passed out as you certainly shouldn’t spend the night alone.