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Welcome To The Bitchery

So, I pick up Husband from work, and he wants to go shoot a few games of pool up at the bar. No problem. I'm wearing a v-neck t-shirt with a tank top underneath, skinny jeans, and boots. Standard outfit for me. Have my hair twisted up and mascara and lip gloss.

There is me and 9 guys in this bar, 3 of whom I know. I don't usually feel weird about this, but, despite Husband being here with me, I've had to all but remove this one guy from my cleavage. I've seen him here before, but don't know him. He's rubbed my back, grabbed my hand, and leaned so far into my chest I was afraid he'd fall in. I was warned to keep an eye on my drink, too.


I just want to play a couple of games of pool while dressed like a normal human being, without having to fend off drunken nitwits. I feel awkward, and like I don't really belong here, which is bullshit, because I've been coming to this bar since it's been this bar.

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