Soul Mate

Lisa’s birthday at Sapphire, an event I was beholden to attend, beckoned by the Queen who seeks the company of the best, was confirmed and duly propelled an attack of valiance. I bravely went into the Valley of Darkness, immersed myself into the typical triumphs she often sees.
Perfect Morgan pours sharpened the edge of verbal dishing. I quickly tested a Tender with Morgan pours, and proud they were, up to standards set high, eventually elevating a tab destined to grow. Whoever achieves Lisa attains the shiniest trophy of glory. The four corners of my brain were touched by watching the majesty, and she especially liked the flowers I brought her.

She can do anything she wants, whatever she says is fine. Again, she made me laugh so much, challenged all the worlds around with the brightest optimism ever documented.

In the midst of colorful chaos, a cool intoxicated dude tried to show me his impression of a Tim Burton movie.
Blindly, I was led into a trap by her fluid movements, elusive to those caught off guard by her casual openness, the truth behind every action resolutely captured by the inner mind’s eye.
Testifying the sights, I needed more Morgan from the sexy and notable bartender wishing to be unidentified.
Later, at one point, I guess some dude called Lisa, an obvious aberration, yet his angle was plausibly not up to snuff since he was put off faster than light travels through any given medium.
That meant more hard pulls of Morgan.
Post-party option was snapped up fast by the randomly known merrymaker drunk bent off substances few would wish to ingest. He’s the guy on the left.
The buffoon proved his alleged worth by extensive rounds of unbound obnoxiousness, the kind rarely seen by clean eyes whose comprehension leads to unambiguous answers. The guy would’ve hit it off with the ADD girls from New Year’s.
Those moments of peculiar drama were outweighed by witnessing sassy and succulent contrivances.
Of late, there seems to be no shortage of females frolicking with each other on carpet, a sight seemingly a norm of days past reincarnate.

When you see a guy become a total stooge it’s noticed fast. Worse when he doesn’t realize the negative impact being left with stunned onlookers. “When was the last time that guy had some action?” I asked that of myself in nary haste, his deeds deliberately dictated by showing packages stemming from deranged frustration. I threw out a cheap and thinly veiled gay reference, which led to him becoming nervous, the result being a reach for nearest female.
Lines were forming for Lena, Lisa’s good friend, a girl I now love, which added to the common complexity of jagged decision-making skills. I escorted her away from imminent danger, feeling fulfilled by doing the right thing.

A Lisa, the first ever, has captured something special. My soul mate will refer to her as an error in judgment.