mister T recipe:
Pour the 1/2 oz of Tabasco in the bottom of the shot glass, then pour 1 1/2 oz of tequila on top.
Fill a glass with ice and add 3/4 oz. Mount Gay Mango Rum, 3/4 oz. Bacardi O, 1/2 oz. banana liqueur and fill with pineapple juice. Garnish with a flag.
A few days ago, I met the man of my dreams. I kid you not. If the whole soul-mate concept is true and there is a man out there that was made solely for me, then I met him and I let him go… back to his wife.
I was at tamasha, in hurlingham. I was supposed to be meeting the boyfriend for a drink on my way home but I arrived early or he was late (I am not really sure). I was seated at the counter sipping on my drink. He walked in dressed exactly how my man should be dressed on a Friday… a buttoned shirt with jeans. I noticed the ring immediately, I was almost grateful for it, seeing as the boyfriend was on his way. He sat at the counter a few seats from me and ordered the perfect gentleman’s drink (according to me that is), a double jack Daniels and a tonic. This was the threshold for me; I threw caution to the wind, so to speak, and decided that as soon as he was off the phone I would say hi.
What followed was one of those moments that make me believe that god has a sense of humor. Just as I am about to switch seats and throw in my opening line who else should walk in but his GORGEOUS wife. Not only beautiful but also with an exquisite sense of fashion. She was wearing a see through chiffon white shirt with a red bra, matched with red earrings,red nail polish and a red and black bracelet; coupled with jeans and sandals and a dereon bag. Again, perfect outfit for a Friday whether in the office or out. If this woman wasn’t housing and fucking the man of my dreams, we would probably be very good friends.
This man was on a mission to absolutely impress me, not only does he drink perfect but he also orders for his woman perfectly. When she sat, he promptly asked the waiter for a Bacardi-Malibu-tonic. Either she and I have perfectly matched taste in fashion and alcohol or he should have been ordering that drink for me.
They were a very young couple, probably newlywed based on the lavvy duvy and touching under the counter (did they actually think that people couldn’t see?) I took pleasure in eaves dropping on their entire conversation, the bits that I could hear.
From my prowess eavesdropping skills I gathered that she was from work and he was from a haircut, massage and a manicure. A metro sexual man, my metro sexual man. He called her wifey (which is just lame, but funny), she called him by his name which had a T sound in it (hence the Mr.T). She had a hint of a British accent (hence the strong audible T), which is something else we have in common.
There was talk of a wedding, a party and a park. I also heard something about the airport.
Then right on cue, the boyfriend walked in (un-tucked shirt), hugged me, slightly running his hand over my ass, sat next to me, ordered a cold tusker(yuck!), reached for my hand with his never been manicured fingers and smiled at me; and I immediately forgot all things Mr.T.
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