Rock And Roll Tramp: Chapter 2- Booze Hound

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She’s back! And oh so sooner than I thought!!

Again at the same venue, this rocker girl was planning on going to another show that I had been looking forward to for months and months and months.

I tried and tried to get her to accompany me to the VIP Party before the show, but she declined and suggested that I sold the second VIP pass on Craigslist.

So there I was, surrounded by friends old and new. The VIP situation fell flat for me but that’s for another time and has nothing to do with the rocker girl.

I sent a text message to check in on her as I was heading out, but she said that she was going to do some “pregamming” before arriving at the venue. I don’t understand the mentality of that, but whatever.

So close to about 11:00 PM the show was just about finished with the second to the last band being on stage rocking it out… rocking ME out!!!

Suddenly, a text message comes to me, asking where I was. I gave my specific location and within moments, there she was. Hugging and touching and caressing… my hands went everywhere and she just stood there talking to me in between songs from the band that was on stage.

The tramp however  came with a group of people and it got me to start thinking that since everyone had seemed to be drinking beforehand that it was a dangerous situation. At least I hope there was nobody driving drunk!!

So she split her time between her friends and her sister at the bar….. and me. She seriously put an effort to it. I have to say that she is the first to do so from saying that she would and then actually doing it.

But of course every time I saw her, she had a drink in her hand.

She’s a vodka woman. But to the hormonal side of me, it was working to my favor. I just didn’t see it yet. Each time she came back to me, the touchy-feely grew more and more intense. Then before I knew it, she had her tongue all over my face and into my ear. Photographs were taken in the form of a selfie. Her tongue visible to my cheek.

Eventually she would leave and then stop by one more time, rubbing and caressing as if she was looking for a shirt pocket. Once she found it, she slipped a pair of earrings into my pocket and walked away. She never said a word.

I ended up with them. Still have them.

The day after, I reminded her that I did have her earrings. And what kills me is that she seriously has no idea how I ended up with them. None whatsoever. It speaks volumes for the tramp.

So as I go along this afternoon, communicating the best I can through social media, turns out that the tramp is not really a tramp, but a slave to the drink. All these heavy petting, rubbing, and caressing is a product of her drinking.

Damnit! Red flags are rising every where.

But we’re still communicating. Still talking. And for once, she’s being the dirty one and I am not. I guess if I wanted to be dirty, I have to buy her some vodka.

This isn’t over……

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