Last week I ended up in Tulsa, Oklahoma for work and a few minutes of sight seeing. Aside from the ominous Oral Roberts University, Tulsa looks like it was bought out of some town catalog and dropped in place, since it’s 95% made up of chain stores and restaurants, except for the few local businesses that rise above, like Rocket Lube, The Glamourama, and Lady Godiva’s.

As you can tell by the only postings I’ve put here, I’m a drunk magnet, and this trip proved no different. Whenever I end up in a new town, I always ask the local waiters where the shittiest bar in town is that they don’t go to. Since the waitress here tried to dupe us into going to a gay bar called the Toolbox in a shady Mexican neighborhood, we decided we’d find our own and succeeded when we reached the Southside Pub. Aside from a bunch of locals playing pool in the back, it was just two of us and this drunk woman. After asking me to dance and being denied, she kept waving us over until I finally broke down. This was the conversation that started, unobstructed by her missing teeth:

Her: “Grab a seat.”
Me: “No.”
Her: “Grab a seat.”
Me: “Okay.”
Her: “Do you want to have an affair?”
Me: “No, I’m married.”
Her: “You’re pretty. Are you an alcoholic?”
Me: “No, I’m trying though.” (her laughter, that then turned into a hacking cough)
Her: “Do you want to have an affair?”
Me: “No, I’m married.”
Her: “Can I have a kiss?”
Me: “No. How about a photo instead?”
Her: “Noooooo.”