My friend Jenny turned 21 on Sunday.

    To celebrate her birthday, she decided she wanted to go to BB King’s in City Place.

    I’ve been to BB King’s a few times and I’ve always had fun. The band is great, the drinks are well made, and the crowd is fun and pleasant. The only down side to BB Kings is that the majority of people who go there are in their late 30’s- early 60’s. This means that my friends and I get hit on by old men who still think they’ve got “it”.

   When I went with my cousins and my sister in October a 55-year-old man bought me a Cosmo. I only accepted it because I really wanted another drink and I was broke, but then I had to let him talk to me for ten minutes. It was a steep price to pay for free liquor. This time when I went, I became a part of what I’m calling a Creeper Oreo Cookie. Here’s how it happened:

    After knocking back an amaretto sour that I waited 20 minutes for because the bar was so backed up, I headed to the dance floor with my friend, Sherri Anne, and my cousin, Ariel. We made up our own little dance circle and then Jenny and her roommate, Sara, joined us. We were having fun, the band was playing Earth, Wind, and Fire, everything was great. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a gentleman of about 70 dancing behind Sherri. She was unaware of him at first, but then she turned, noticed him, and proceeded to dance away from him. He was unperturbed by this rejection and proceeded to dance with Sara. Sara followed Sherri’s example, but this man kept coming like a skeevy Energizer Bunny. Eventually we decided to take a break from dancing so we could shake the creeper.

   Ten, maybe fifteen minutes later, the band started a new set so we headed back to the dance floor. We thought we were safe because we didn’t see The Creeper in sight, but then another gentleman of an advanced age started dancing with Ariel. He was very thin and very lanky and had a face like a raisin. The last time we came to BB King’s a man of advanced age try to grind on Ariel so she simply gave this new creeper a blank stare and danced away from him. Another group of women came onto the dance floor so Creeper 2.0 went to creep on them.

   I thought the matter was over and done with.

   We were all having a blasty blast.

   I was wearing a new shirt with my jeggings (jeggings!) and I felt fantastic.

   Our circle loosened up a little since we no longer had to worry about the Creeper or Creeper 2.0. The band was playing Love and Happiness and I was on Cloud 15. Cloud 9 couldn’t contain my good mood which was why I had to seek out other aerial real estate. The amaretto sour was doing its job, despite the fact that I know the bartender watered it down. (Not to sound like a lush, but if you put too much ice in my drink and it starts to taste like a slushie, I will cut you five ways to Sunday and mount your head on my wall.)

     Then, I felt a tickle on the back of my neck like someone was a smidge too close. No matter, I just danced a closer to the stage.  The tickle didn’t go away and I turned and realized that the Creeper was dancing behind me like we were an item (an extremely ill-matched and vomitous item). I tried to dance away from him and rejoin my circle, but suddenly Creeper 2.0 was in front of me like some sick and twisted dancing queen. (Did I mention that he looked a little gay?) I backed up, but the Creeper was there and ahead of me, Creeper 2.0. It was then I realized that I wasn’t being stalked; I was herded. With nowhere to go I had no choice but to be the cream in their horrendous Creeper Oreo Cookie.

    Oh the humanity.

    I needed another amaretto sour after that.

    And a scalding hot shower.

    Actually, just new skin.