swinger-couples-tequila-bar

Last Sunday, I flew from dreary Portland all the way to sunny Orlando, Florida in order to meet my brother’s family, as it was my nephew’s first time going to DisneyWorld and I very much wanted to be there to see it. After all, how many times in your life do you get to witness a 7-year-old’s first time seeing fireworks over a castle? Not many, mis amigos, and it was pretty goddamn awesome.

On my second day there, I went to Downtown Disney with them. After we did our fun-filled, Disney day thang, I opted to stay for a while. The hotel was only a few minutes away by foot, not to mention there was a bus that could take me back that ran every 30 minutes or so. I wound up picking a tequila bar against my better judgment. Alas, it was one of the only open ones that had seats at the bar available. The bartenders were good looking, I was exhausted and all I really wanted was to have a couple of those ridiculously sugary drinks you can only get while on vacation.

There I am, sipping on a pomegranate margarita via a curly straw, and this guy to my left turns towards me and says, “So, you on vacation?” I nodded, and we talked for a few minutes. He was a teacher from a place close to where I grew up, and I talked about what I did for a living. He asked questions about my tattoos, as strangers in bars occasionally do. It wasn’t sleazy, nor did it come off as aggressive. Plus, when he asked my age and I told him I was 23, he responded as though that actually deterred him, as he admitted to being 34. It just seemed like he was genuinely interested in chatting with me as one semi-lonely person to another.

Only, he was not alone.

He was with his girlfriend of just a few months who, upon witnessing her boyfriend speaking to me, staggered up to us. She was incredibly drunk. I mean really, strikingly wasted. The kind of drunk you only get when you’re a freshman at your first college party or after something terrible happens. Rather than saying anything, she just stood there, wobbling back and forth, then grabbed his arm to hang onto it while glaring at me.

“Hi.”

She then turned to him and began yelling at him for flirting with “some slut” while vigorously shaking her finger in his face. I looked away, smiling politely and uncomfortably, as my general gauge of the situation was, “Dude is pissed that his girlfriend is drunk, girl is pissed that her boyfriend is talking to me,” and I did not want to be in the middle of that. Nevertheless, I also did not want to get rid of my drink which was still mostly full, so I decided to excuse myself to have a cigarette.

“I’ll… come wif you,” she slurred, her eyes totally dead and blinking separately.

She followed me outside to the patio and I gave her a cigarette. She needed assistance lighting it, so I helped her and she smoked it for about three seconds before promptly putting it out. Not knowing what to say, I asked her about her relationship in an attempt to make it clear that I genuinely did not want to sleep with this guy she was seeing. She started babbling about how they were soooo good together and how he was soooo amazing oh my goood. Then, he came outside to bring her his jacket, and she got this weird look.

For a second, I thought she was going to throw up, but then I realized what that look meant. I knew it, because I had seen it before in other females when a very specific idea dawns on them. She glanced at her boyfriend, then leaned over and grabbed my face, pushing it against hers.

I backed up quickly. I was not about to make out with some drunk lady in Disney World who wants to have her boyfriend watch us. I’ve been with women plenty of times, but this was definitely not one of those instances — particularly considering she was sort of drooling beer everywhere. But, I tried to be nice; after all, I have certainly been wasted many times before, and I didn’t want to be rude or make her feel stupid for doing something idiotic.

Her boyfriend, at this point, was rolling his eyes. He told me that they were staying at the hotel down the road, to which I replied that I was, as well, and he offered to have me walk back with them if I could help him get her there. He insisted he was not trying to hit on me and that he genuinely loved this chick, but he just couldn’t deal with her alone. She was being rather unmanageable, and I felt bad for him — again, he seemed totally normal. Plus, I needed to get back to the hotel, didn’t really want to wait for the bus and there were cops (apparently they were not cops, but security guards? When people carry badges and are all in blue, I kind of just assume…) all along the path, so I felt all right about the situation.

Yes, I know. I am dumb.

I paid my tab — which had my extra beer taken off, because the bartender said he “felt bad for me” — and we three left. There were numerous cops who raised their eyebrows at her drunken swagger, but still, the girlfriend kept saying hello to everybody and insisting we keep drinking. She attempted to hold my hand over and over, then would run and try to dance to songs being played. It was embarrassing, but fortunately, I was in Disney World and there are far weirder and more embarrassing things that go on there.

As we’re walking along, the guy tells her to speed up ahead. He then turns to me and says, “You need to promise me something.” I ask what it is, since I know better than to promise anything before asking the specifics. “You need to promise me that you’ll help me get her into bed.”

“Uhhh, no,” I said back, trying to be as polite as possible about it. “Sorry, I just have to get back to my room.”

“No, no — after you help me get her into bed… I’ll help you get into your room. It’s a win-win.”

I kind of just stared at him, then realized that my judgment had been totally off: dude was totally a creep. Shit. I declined his offer by stating that, no, I had already walked to my room the night before, and that I would be just fine doing so again. It’s a Disney hotel; it’s not a hostel on the outskirts of Rome.

This did not please him. He then got incredibly angry with his girlfriend, seemingly pissed at her for ruining their or his chances of getting laid with somebody new, and started yelling at her. He kept saying, “You can just go stay in her room” while gesturing to me. I was startled that Normal Dude had suddenly shifted gears so radically after it became clear that I was not going to be down with his totally creepy plan to “walk me back to my room.” He pushed her away and kept yelling at her until we finally got into the hotel lobby.

“Last chance,” he said to me, half-smiling.

“Are you suuure you…dun wanna come with…us?” his girlfriend drawled.

She then started dry heaving, and while he took care of her, I bolted to my room. While in the elevator, I began laughing and couldn’t stop all the way to my room. Even though it was definitely a weird night, it was hilarious in its own way. Of course, I am a little pissed that the dude managed to trick me into thinking he had no malintentions, but then again, it was stupid of me to think somebody at Disney World is somehow more trustworthy than any other random person at a bar. Either way, I think I’ll just stay clear of any sort of romantic or desperately unromantic encounters at theme parks in the future.

Photo: Me