Waking Up In Vegas

Part 11 - Pretty Women And Celeb Hotties

   After enjoying our grilled cheese and I told him about the guy in the market, we sat on the couch and turned on the TV to keep ourselves busy until the party.

   There hip about Hunt and I was still going, but we changed the channel to cartoons. Sponge Bob was playing.

   “Is it me or is Sponge Bob retarded?” I laughed as he got on his co-worker, Squidwart’s last nerve.

   Hunter just laughed and Sandy appeared on screen.

   “Do you think there’s something going on between Sandy and Sponge Bob?” he asked.

   “It’s a kids show, I dough it. The real question is will she ever run out of oxygen in that underwater home of hers.”

   “Well think about it, accept for the whale and his driving teacher, Sandy is the only girl he knows. And like I said, friendships make the best relationships.”

   “Not that again!” I complained. “When you like someone, you ask them out, end of story, Hunt.”

   “It’s not that simple. You need to build a certain trust in each other, before you can really be serious.”

   “That’s called dating. Something we should have done before getting married, Hunt,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

   “Fine, you have a point, but when you’re friends first, you can just skip over the dating.”

   “Dating is the best part! When you get to know that person, you know about his or her past and where you can have fun with this person,” and I added, “while still be allowed to look around.”

   “Wait, just because you’re in a relationship with someone does not mean you can look around,” he stated.

   “When a girl finds out that you’re ‘looking around’, she automatically thinks you’re trying to replace her with someone better, hotter and it messes with their self esteem and trust in you. We ask ourselves questions constantly. Is he cheating on me? Am I not good enough for him? Etc and etc,” I explained to the clueless boy.

   “So we can as long as she doesn’t know?” he asked.

   I rolled my eyes.

   “It’s better to not do it at all, idiot.”

   “Well, that sucks,” and he rolled his eyes.

   “Be nice to your girl and she’ll suck, if you know what I mean,” I said, giving him a little wink.

   “I’ve nothing but nice to you and we haven’t even had sex since Vegas,” he complained, but was still smiling.

   “I’m not your girl,” I explained.

   “You’re my wife,” he replied.

   Just having him say that while looking at me with that adorable smile of his made the butterflies resurface. And with that accent too...

   Snap out of it! I yelled once again at myself in my mind.

   When it was about 9:30pm, we left the Hilton. I was thinking we’d take a cab, like we did to go most places, but instead a valet arrived around the corner, driving a black Mercedes. He got out and tossed the keys to Hunter.

   “This is yours?” I asked.

   “Why do you look so surprised?” he smiled and we got into the car – which for a second was confusing to me, cause I opened the door on the wrong side, stupid Europe, can’t drive on the right side of the road...