I went to Bar None recently to help celebrate a friend's birthday in the city and by the time I got home, I was exhausted from 2 stepping out from under people. The establishment, ahem, wasn't that big but what do you expect for a dive bar. I guess it helped to concentrate all the energy. The music, the drinks, the heat, and the close quarters attributed to the excitement I'm sure many a gentlemen (used loosely) felt.
Yep, that's it. It had nothing to do with the girl in the mixed colors of orange, blue and red tight, form fitting mini dress grinding on her friend in the tight black and white cat suit. Or the buxom brunette near the coat check giving a lucky young man a stand up lap dance. Nothing about her little black dress riding up her thighs nor her voluptuous bosoms threatening to break loose to engulf the masses. Even when I spotted another young lady in a red sweater pinning her gentleman of choice against the DJ booth, back arched, whining, while her guy grabbed handfuls of her breasts - a few times he teased onlookers by pulling her sweater down to reveal lots, and I'm talking LOTS, of cleavage - that didn't do much.
Who am I kidding!? You damn right all that grinding and skin got the libido going full swing (hey, maybe I can be a rapper). I must admit there were some very sexy young ladies and a lot of hormonal surging. Welcomed ass grabbing and groping, making out and all out head banging. I didn't notice if anyone was reserved in their flyness to not cut loose a bit. And I guess it was OK to ignore the drunk girls who managed to spill some of my drink while barreling their way through the crowd to find a spot on the dance floor. So, with that said I didn't mind terribly the people jumping up and down on my feet to We Are Young. We are young!
*photo courtesy of Bar None NYC