Half a croissant, on a plate, with a sign in front of it saying '50c'
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Pool Table

 Wine, cheese and a dip, twistin' by the pool.
 
(+2, -2) 		  [vote for,
against]

Nancy had something green between her teeth, it seemed. Which was funny because Roland didn't recall cooking anything green, in the dinner he had prepared for the two of them, that evening.

It didn't bother Roland, because he had other plans. He stood, taking the last of the plates with him, and returning with a "virgin" Pina Colada for Nancy and a Cocksucking Cowboy for himself. Roland didn't really like the taste of the drink that much but it was a damned cool name for a cocktail, right? He hoped she would ask what he was drinking, but that never happened.

Nancy sipped her drink and frowned. "Are you sure there's no alcohol in this drink, Roland", she asked.

"Not a drop", Roland lied.

The conversation droned on, veering into the exciting world of rubber stamping, as it always did with Nancy. Finally, she excused herself and went off to the toilet. Now was his chance.

Roland released a catch under the tabletop, swinging open the two leaves of the table, pressing the ON switch with his foot, turning on the Barry White CD in the stereo unit and shedding his clothes in seconds.

He was seated, naked, in the bubbling spa pool built into the base of the table, drink in hand, when Nancy emerged from her ablutions. She stared for a moment then mumbled something about how late it was and, wisely, scuttled out the door with her chastity intact.

—UnaBubba, Oct 07 2003

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       Song writer, yes. Author, NO, PLEASE, *NO*!   

       But I've changed my mind on the idea itself - can I get one in an office desk?
—DrCurry, Oct 07 2003
   

       You can please some of the people all of the time...
—UnaBubba, Oct 07 2003
   

       Is your problem with the idea or the personality, [DrCurry?
—UnaBubba, Oct 07 2003
   

       Obviously aimed at the kinda guy who has some fairly sleazy tactics...hmm. I need to get me one o' these.   

       Make mine a "Blowjob," bartender.
—Eugene, Oct 08 2003
   

       Roland ain't no freakin' nice guy, pal. He's a dirtbag.
—UnaBubba, Oct 08 2003
   

       Maybe we should introduce him to Charlene.
—RayfordSteele, Oct 08 2003
   

       Charlene's married, [Ray]. And I don't think Roland really needs anyone else to have a good time. He seems to be doing fine ALL by himself.   

       I too would invest in the office version. +
—k_sra, Oct 08 2003
   

       this raises more questions than provides answers:
whats with Nancy and rubber stamping? chastity intact? is that a kind of dog or a laptop? were Roland's clothes totally fastened with velcro? and was the something green between her teeth at all connected with Roland's choice of alcoholic beverage? 		  

       answers on a postcard to ..
—po, Oct 08 2003
   

       I was looking for an idea I posted a while ago, and found this one gathering dust...
—UnaBubba, Sep 29 2009
   


 

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