Tongue Rings & Scotch


I was at an industry gig… Some sort of record release party in the Penthouse suite of a posh hotel. Having pre-pinted at the Canadian Music Awards hours prior to my arrival, it was safe to say that I was a fucking waste case! I walked in smiling and pie eyed! My colleagues on either side of me, adequately acting as my support beams. I could barely walk, or at least in my mind anyway… But somehow I WAS walking, or maybe I was floating. I don’t know… But I was definitely moving, I know that.

I floated over to the bar because at this point, knowing when to draw the line is out the window. I don’t have a pencil, a piece of chalk, a paintbrush or any concept of what a line even looks like. I order 2 double scotch on the rocks! Why? Because I’m fucking irresponsible and am obviously out to damage my liver beyond repair.

I somehow transported my alcoholic scotch soaked body over to the dance floor, where, surprisingly, I was able to throw together a dance move or two and not look wasted doing so. In fact dancing was making me feel more sober, that is until I got “the spinnies”. The crowd was looking more and more blurry, conversations sounded like they were being heard while I was submerged underneath the water, and I now felt like I was on The Gravitron at the carnival.

I remember telling myself “Selina, you need to sit down”. I found my way to a couch and sat between two industry fat cats and totally interrupted their conversation. They both looked at me and laughed. I mumbled something incoherent and swayed my loopy head to the music. One of the industry guys was an older dude (in relation to the people at this party), probably in his late fifties, and a very well known influential person in the Canadian music scene. I remember clicking my tongue ring around and thinking that I probably looked like one of those lizards. Suddenly he looks at me and widens his eyes and says “DO YOU HAVE YOUR TONGUE PIERCED?” I don’t remember what my answer was or how the conversation went from there, only that he was fascinated with it, and that it was my duty to really show him what it was all about… And I definitely did… when I grabbed his face and rammed my tongue down his throat and kissed him. He was stunned and speechless. I saw my colleagues looking at me with their jaws on the floor from across the room. I stood up, winked at them… smiled at him… and left the party!


11 thoughts on “Tongue Rings & Scotch

  1. Hey SeLiNa!

    Sorry that Blogger let you down…

    This seems like a nice place though!

    I’ll add another link on my Buddy list…

    When I first read this, I though that…”it was my duty to really show him what it [tongue piercing] was all about”…was gonna go a different way…

    Take care out there!

    Your Pal,


  2. Zambo: Thanks for stopping in at my new place. I think I will be very happy here! I am glad that my story didn’t get any crazier than it already was… especially since it wasn’t a flash fiction piece, but rather an actual incident!

    Seriously Ill: I am still learning about the features of WordPress, but I do believe there is an RSS Feed. If you scroll to the very bottom of the page there is an RSS link there.

    BeefNPotatoes: Yes, I indeed had a good time!! A little “too” good of a time! But I will never forget that story, nor will he i’m sure!

  3. Sorry to hear about all your blogger woes, but happy that you have found a home where you are content.

    It would have been a crime if you didn’t post anymore. You’re posts have officially become part of my afternoon coffee break routine at work… helps me maintain my sanity…


    P.S… About your post – I don’t have a tounge ring, but I wish I had that kind of nerve…

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