Last night, on the typical Friday night out, I was accosted by several beautiful women asking me to sign up for free stuff. Apparently they were exchanging goods and services in exchange for my address, which I promptly faked. These girls were stunning and I gladly would have done anything for them, except give my real name and address. That's off limits. In exchange for providing my very valuable fake information (I was Chad McMichael and also later on in the evening Michael Weiner) these girls gave me what are known as WIZ cards. WIZ cards supposedly get you into the hottest clubs, buy you free shots and snag you free t-shirts. The T-shirts part is true as I found about five of them in my hamper this morning. I'm pretty sure I used one like an NFL quarterback, wiping off my hands and face occasionally. Sadly, when I tried to pay the tab with my WIZ card, I was turned down. Apparently WIZ cards are not money.
What really fascinated me was that someone decided to call these gorgeous women "WIZ girls." It is genius to send a group of hot women into a bar to try and get men's mailing addresses. As a friend of mine noted, he would have "thrown my mother out of a speeding car, for a chance with one of these girls." That's a whole other story.
Personally, the name "WIZ girls" conjures up a whole series of negative images that I'd rather not share. With the Avian flu virus scare in full bloom, I try and stay as clean as possible. These girl's flirtatious attitudes included casual touching. I suppose being a student of the english language has its drawbacks.
And a quick Craig's list type entry to the girl in the grey sweater. I wasn't fascinated with you so much as I was with the skeevy dude hitting on you. This guy looked like a mix of David Cross and a lizard and never seemed to stop touching you, even as you were backing away. I would have come to your rescue, but my friends and I ordered bar bites and I was feeling snarky. Sorry.