Too close for comfort

I went dancing tonight at Opera, a night club in Atlanta.

You know, when you go to a night club, it's not like you're expecting to find "someone." It's kind of a free thing, where you dance, see who comes up, maybe you dance with that person, maybe not...

Well, here's what happened. Guys would come up to me and my friend, stand behind us and rub their already hard cocks into our backs. One guy even grabbed my hand and put it on his penis, which was hard. What, what? Really? He didn't even know my name. Not cool, horny dude. We ended up calling the whole night, "Dick in the back."

Even when we ran interference for each other, there was a lot of insisting from the guys. There was one guy who was like Velcro -- we couldn't shake him.

The guys were RIDICULOUS. A lot of Indian/Pakistani looking fellows (the most bold, by the way). A few gringos. A lot of African-Americans. In my opinion, not a lot of quality in any demographic.

We had fun, until "hand-on-the-cock" guy. My friend said, "I'm here to save you." I said, "Save me!" so we fled to the salsa room, where the guys were less aggressive. Now that's turning logic on its head. Oops. Bad pun. Anyway...

Lesson? Men who go to Opera have never heard of Maria Callas or Luciano Pavarotti.