Dear Couple at Jack in the Box,
Clearly you had us mistaken for other people. We realize that it was nearing the midnight hour and we were waiting for curly fries and that one of us was barefoot because her damn shoes were hurting after 3 hours of dancing and we realize that you had probably seen us over at the Sandpiper knocking back cocktails like our life depended on it and we understand why these things may have seemed like an indication to you that we were wild and crazy party people when we actually were just having a big night out because the kids were spending the night with their grandfather and we were aware that we could sleep in Sunday morning. However, how could you know that? All you saw was the vodka, the bare feet and the curly fries.
It was friendly (but weird) of you to invite us over to your house and maybe some people actually take you up on your offer, but we are, even drunk, cautious people and the idea didn't really appeal to us. But, you know, thanks. My question to you, girl half of couple, is this: Why, after our polite, No thank you, we are heading home, did you think that pulling your partner's pants down so we could see his (in your words) "big b***s" was the logical next move?
Did you get that Internet? She pulled his pants down and he stood there, jeans all puddled around his ankles, with his clearly not a Jumbo Jack dangling for all the world, and worse, me, to see.
I suppose that you have had some success with this move and you were therefore giving it the old college try. We really had no idea that your initial invitation was an attempt to pick us up and, while surprised that we appear to be a couple that might drive a van with an airbrushed mural of a seascape and an cobra headed gear shift and who grow pot in their basement and spend their free time going to parties where keys are tossed into a basket at the front door, swinging is not something we have any interest in... other than to make fun (and be slightly grossed out) of the whole concept. Swinging! Apparently alive and well in Orange County.
We do think, however, that you made the friendly and very gay Jack in the Box counter employee really happy, so that was, in retrospect, a surprise altruistic sidebar to what was, to say the least, a fairly repulsive sales move.
As we walked home (both barefoot as one of us showed much husband-ly support by also shucking shoes) we were convinced that you folks were just wasting your time trying to score a couple to party with... who would fall for the friendly (but weird), "come to our house for wine..." line?
We may be a little slow on the uptake but others are not.
No one is that foolish.
I have removed the link to the above blog. YIKES!