Undercover...

so yesterday i woke up early to get to class, and i'm not someone who gets hangovers so it's easy for me to drink and then go to class. but during my first class i received a text from Busboy asking if we were still on to "fool around" after he got off work around seven. i said sure knowing that i wasn't doing anything after class but going for Margaritas with my actor friend. which i did. skip the three hours of improv and then a 3 hour break in which my friend broke her toe, then the two hours of yoga and Alexander Technique, (the yoga was forearm hand stands...) lets just say i needed a Margarita.
8 pm-ish: i had cleaned my Apartment and was waiting for Busboy to either ring the doorbell or call me saying he was outside. he say he was coming over. i had a bottle of wine that i was quickly getting through.  i had put on my low cut black dress, fishnets and my black boots. (looking good i thought) at about 8:20 my phone rings, i mute the TV and answer it, "hello?" it's Busboy, he says "where are you?" "home...where are you?" "outside." long pause. "outside my house?" i said a bit taken back by it. "no." he answered. long story cut short, he told me that he couldn't see me, as in ever and he was sorry that he lead me on.... blah blah blah.
so that happened.
i called my big sister and asked if she would accompany me to Hell's Kitchen to get drunk. she agreed..  duhh. by the time we were on our way to the city i had already three cups of wine in my...(*remember Lightweight! )
Bull Moose was first, and guess who happened to be standing outside, smoking a Marlboro Menthol? BucketHead. him and his roommate were finishing off there night after both working 10 hour shifts and were almost heading back home. i drank a beer, and they peaced out. My Sis wanted to watch the rest of the game... baseball- american pass time my ass, boring as shit. she got into a conversation with the man (i say man because he was old.) about the game. i finished my beer and we went over to Rudy's which was WAY too crowded. and decided that the Irish Rogue would be better.
now, me and my sis have this thing, we cane both pull off good British accents so we use them! when we go to bars sometimes we pretend to be english girls over in the states for uni.
we took our seats at the bar and instantly both agreed that the bar tender was pretty, he introduced himself to us as Tom, and we continued with our act.
skip a few hours, i was on my third beer (after the wine) and feelin it. there was this guy about 3 stools down talking to his friend. they were both not the cutest but hey who's judging. after a lot of looks and smiles in my direction, my sister literally pushed me off my bar stool to go sit next to him. i did.
now, its bad when you can't remember his name, but it's even worse when you can remember his friends name and not his. he was Irish, from long Island, and possibly married... keeping up with the British act, the first thing he said was "i dig the accent." after some small talk i asked him what he did for a living and he told me that he didn't like to tell people because its a "turn off" i asked again and he said he was an undercover cop, that worked the West side from 34th street-72nd street, busting druggies, and prostitutes. whoa! yeah.
so my sister left to go home, we continued to talk a bit and and ended up making out right there at the bar, on our bar stools.
i gave him my number, he left and i left, and i was drunk, really drunk. went home and he called me. asking me to go back into the city. i completely forgot about the accent and had a whole conversation with him without it. then fell asleep.