And then I got called a fat chick

Picture this, I show up at a bar around 8:00 p.m. on a Friday night when a lot of boys have been drinking for about 7 hours.  It was the Friday before New Years, Iowa State played a bowl game at 2:30 and Iowa was set to kick off (how's that for football talk?) at 9:00 p.m. I walked into The Ridgemont and it smelled like everyone in the place had taken a bath in stale beer.  I found my friends Ben and Jeff, and expressed my concern.  Jeff claimed that it was one 'acquaintance' in particular that may have hit his limit hours prior, and also suggested that I stay away from him. Stumbleina, as I will call him, was not coherently able to express his age or the approximate number of drinks he had consumed.  This is okay with me...no judgements, but he looked awfully huggy.  This I am not as okay with.  I minded my own business for awhile, until Stumbleina came our way.  I kept out of it until I heard him say this to Jeff, 'Yeah, Iiihhmm pretty drunk, but I'm sschhhur I could still pull a fat chick toniiight.' I chuckled to myself, but THEN, he turned to me, attempted a stink eye wink, and toasted to me!  I looked at Stumbleina and nicely asked, 'Wait a minute, did you just say that you could pull home a fat chick tonight, and then turn to me and cheers me?'  Stumbelina had no clue about the lethal combination of attempted speech and action that he had just committed.  He slurred his way out of it, and I took off, without slapping him in the face, might I add!  Here's to self improvement in 2012! Go me.