Midnight freeballing on Montgomery

Chris came over tonight for dinner and we hung out for a few hours, drinking wine, listening to music, and talking. It was fun...very much so...the kind of night where not only are you hanging out with your boyfriend, but you're also good friends with each other in addition to being in love and just shooting the shit. Those are fun times...a good way to spend a Monday night.

After dinner, we decided to strip down to our underwear and practice yoga in the living room. I have high ceilings and hardwood floors throughout my apartment, so it made a perfect makeshift yoga studio, not to mention entertainment for the neighbors. When we were done, I didn't bother putting my underwear back on and instead just put on my jeans, grabbed my keys, and walked Chris to the bus stop down at Sansome and Bush so he could catch the 10 back to Potrero Hill. As I kissed him goodnight and he boarded the bus, I realized something was amiss, and it took being in the Financial District to realize it.

You see, the FiDi is the kind of place where you usually have your shit together. Freshly showered, hair done, wallet in your pocket, backpack, purse, or manbag on your hip, cellphone in hand, spring in your step, and more often than not, you're wearing underwear. Since I had just grabbed my trusty, threadbare, holey old 501's and walked out the door, I had neglected to bring a few key items with me.

As I walked away, I felt a draft in my crotch. I patted my pockets and realized that:

• I didn't have my wallet with me...
  
• I didn't have my phone with me...
  
• I wasn't wearing any underwear.

This is pretty much the first time I've ever been in the Financial District missing these key items, the most obvious being the underwear. At this point, I kind of had to pee, so I thrust my hands into the pockets of my 501's and grabbed my peepee and held it.

Kind felt good, though.

So I figured, "Oh hell, what the fuck," and started playing pocket pool whilst walking down Montgomery Street. At one point, I started giggling while looking at the Transamerica Pyramid while simultaneously doing ball tricks in my jeans.

Chris knows what I'm talking about...tonight I demonstrated "The Cameltoe" for him in my kitchen.

I think he was kinda grossed out, actually.

Some drunk girls, two attractive blondes in their mid-twenties, staggered out of the Bubble Lounge and started flirting with me as I walked past. The entire time, I was playing with my balls and peepee, not in a sexually perverted way, but in a "Ha ha ha you drunk biatches, I'm playing with my balls, you don't know I'm playing with my balls, and you can't touch them anyway because you have a front fanny."

Besides, I was doing Rocky the Flying Squirrel and I never show that one to anybody.

Anyway, the point of the story:

If you ever have a chance to freeball it down Montgomery at midnight on a Monday, I'd highly recommend it.