Girl Drink Drunk: BarBelmont

Flowers, candles and Cucumber Collins. What a night.
Flowers, candles and Cucumber Collins. What a night.

[Cue dramatic music.] This week in Girl Drink Drunk, I'm paying homage to romance novels, drunken trysts and, oh, why not, Harlequin's 60th. This is the trashy romance edition. Read me, baby. Read me.

On and on, Jayna went. We just had to meet this Mr. Collins. She'd met this tall drink at BarBelmont one Friday night, and apparently, Collins was such a tasty treat, she was willing to share. I jumped at the chance. After all, a new intoxicating adventure was fun, but a chance to experiment a bit with a stunning friend I trusted? Well, that was a rare opportunity.

We made plans to meet for dinner--I admit, I needed a little time to work up my nerve--at the Cliff Café, the restaurant attached to the Belmont Hotel...and BarBelmont, where Jayna had originally met up with her organic stud. Go back to the source, the scene of the crime? Seemed natural...and perfectly scandalous. 


The gorgeous Marla had also been intrigued by Jayna's night of Collins, especially given his full name--Cucumber Collins. She would meet us there too, and I was relieved by the added player in our little scene. We chatted throughout dinner, flirting here and there with Cucumber--like women do. A quick sip of his Square One organic cucumber vodka mixed with fresh lemon and soda was like an electrifying shock of freshness to my tongue...to each of our tongues. He was invigorating, energetic and he was generously portioned.

Collins offered a gush of refreshment, like the sudden storm.
Collins offered a gush of refreshment, like the sudden storm.

We moved to the BarBelmont's covered outdoor patio just as a sudden rain storm poured out of the sky. We shivered a little and he sassed us with his fresh lashings of wide cucumber, if you know what I mean, and before long, we were warmed up, talking about sex--past experiences of good and bad varieties, what we wanted differently now that we'd matured, even discovering a shared lover during our stories. Cucumber Collins was not intimidated by such talk, but only fed into the conversation with his cool and fresh style, breaking a cold excited sweat that only made him more attractive.

Jayna had been right. Cucumber Collins was somehow the right choice for her, Marla and me that night. The positive "effects" of our Collins encounter lingered on as we chatted about him--knowing smiles on our faces--long after he left our table. And I think my ladies will agree, I still feel a tingle in my toes when I think about our night with Cucumber Collins...which is sadly, more than we could say about some of the other experiences we discussed.


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