When Ubermilf Gets Drunk, She Dances
Miss Kathy, be prepared to fill in any details I may inadvertantly omit from the following story.

Nick, this is my blogoversary
present to you. It involves:

This bar (well, at their original location)

Me, dressed as a pirate for Halloween, wearing

black lace stockings


thigh high boots

Now, Miss Kathy and I used to frequent the original Exit quite frequently. While the "new" location is still fun, the original is burned into my memory.

Whether it was Halloween, Christmas or the middle of May, Exit was a lot like a Jaycee's Haunted House inside. Black walls, black light -- black everything. It consisted of an antechamber with a bar, followed by a narrow corridor which emptied out into the main bar area. The dance floor was a step-down into a large pit framed by ... fencing? Webbing? Something. Considering the substances we imbibed before and during our trips to Exit, I'm surprised I remember what I do.

One Halloween, I injested about 100 liters or so of Tequila before heading out to Exit, where I drank even more of who-knows-what. I was wearing the aforementioned boots and stockings, along with a swingy mini skirt with little bells sewn along the bottom, a black wrap top, and a head scarf. I was a pirate, arrgh.

I stepped down onto the dance floor (probably Sisters of Mercy or something was playing) and my ankle snapped. My foot was horizontal, instead of vertical. "Ouch!" I thought. But I kept dancing. And dancing. And walked back a couple of blocks to the car.

Since this was my senior year of college, I was supposed to go to class the next morning. And I would have, if my ankle was not swollen to the size of a cantaloupe, extremely painful and purple.

The scariest thing was the swirls of purple-black extending from my ankle all the way up my leg. "I've done something horrible to myself!" I thought. "My entire leg! Oh my God..." until I washed my leg. The suede lining of my boots had dispensed ink onto my skin, through the lace stocking, which had created the lovely pattern. Granted, the ankle was still sprained and out of commission, but at least I didn't have blood poisoning or anything.

Miss Kathy was sweet enough to bring me magazines and Clive Barker's Weaveworld to read while I was laid up. Soon enough, I was good as new.

That is my sexy drunk pirate girl story. I hope you enjoyed it.
Name: Übermilf
Location: Chicago Area

If being easily irritated, impatient and rebellious is sexy, then call me MILF -- Übermilf.

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