"It's OK ... who's she going to tell?"

I picked up the wide receiver and punter for our PSU Vikings football team t'other night. The WR was the chatty one, Punter didn't say much. They were both pretty drunk, going from the Cheerful Tortoise to the Barrel Room, short ride.

WR: How you doing tonight?

Me: I'm having at least 3 types of fun tonight. How 'bout you fellas?

WR: We're ... wait? 3 types? What three?

Me: Mental, physical and emotional.

WR: Well, you're pretty quick.

Me: That's called being sober hun. What're you fellas up to tonight? Other than the obvious I mean.

P: Obvious? What do you think we're up to? and he said this with the HOTTEST Australian accent ... not that they aren't all hot to my untrained ear. and beating heart

Me: Holy Baby Jesus you sound CUTE! and wow, he was good looking too.

WR: Yeah. That's what all the girls say.

Me: I bet that isn't all they say to him.

WR: So what do you think we're doing?

Me: I think you're taking this guy to the bar to pick up women.

WR: Now how did you guess? That's exactly what I'm doing. I'm lazy. I just sit back and let him do the fishing for me.

Me: Like fishing in a drinking glass with that accent I imagine.

WR: Yeah, if I'm lucky I might get one of the cast-offs from the 2 or 3 he picks up.

Me: Oh c'mon now, you look like you might clean up pretty well yourself. If you were to maybe wear something besides that nasty old shirt and shorts.

WR: Yeah. Guess I could have changed my shirt, this one hasn't been washed in a week.

P: I wouldn't advertise that if I were you.

WR: It's OK ... who's she going to tell?

Who indeed.