Cleanliness is Next to Godliness

Or so the old adage says.

It was several years ago and I was working in a liquor store while going back to school. It was an interesting job and while I didn't make much money at it, it had its perks, such as meeting all sorts of women and getting invited to parties. (sometimes the invites were issued because they thought I'd bring all the booze)

I had met a nice young lady several weeks prior and was invited by her to come to a party at her house after I got off work. To be honest, I was attracted to her, but also to one of her friends who had come into the store with her, and both women seemed to be interested in me. (I hadn't any kinky stuff in mind, but was flattered by the attention. It's rare for even ONE woman to be interested in me, and two was doubly so)

Before closing the store for the night, I purchased a 1.75L of vodka; nearly everyone who drinks likes vodka and it's a good, neutral mixer. Besides that, it was cheap.

I got to the party and everyone was glad to see me, at least they were glad to see the booze because they were nearly out. The hostess had put her kids to bed, but her friend was having some problems getting her baby to sleep. I was introduced to the folks I didn't know and also to the friend's brother sitting at the kitchen table, a rather surly looking young man with long, long hair and a full beard.

I asked the young woman if it was OK to make me a drink and was told "Sure, make me one too!" A couple of other people attending the party wanted me to make them a drink, too, so I did so after washing my hands in the kitchen sink. The surly guy was sitting there at the dining table with an empty glass, so I politely asked him if he wanted me to make him a drink, too.

He didn't even speak, instead shaking his head. "You sure?" I asked again. "I'm making mine and these others." "Nope." he replied. "I'll get my sister to make mine."

"My hands are clean." I joked with him. He again declined, telling me "Nuthin' against you, dude, just want my sister to make it for me." He then rudely yelled at her in the next room "Hey, come make me a drink."

She walked into the room, cradling her crying child. "Gee thanks, ya jerk, you woke up your niece." Nonplussed, he said "Make me a drink, 'k?"

"Let Mike make it; he's already making the others and I heard him ask you!" she exclaimed.

"Rather YOU make it." he replied to her back as she turned and left the kitchen.

"Man, I washed my hands." I told him again.

"I'm just paranoid." he answered. "I don't know you."

Sheesh, what did the guy think I was going to do, put something in his drink? I wasn't wanting to get into HIS pants, after all.

"That why you got a beard?" I asked him. " Afraid to shave, 'fraid that SOB in the mirror will cut your throat?" I joked, but he didn't find it funny. I didn't care, because I was insulted by his attitude. Once again, he yelled to his sister to come fix his drink.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, his sister popped into the room, and with an obvious annoyed posture, grabbed his glass, went over to the fridge, grabbed some ice with her bare hands and put it into the glass, poured some vodka and orange juice into it, then stirred the mixture with her finger. With an exaggerated gesture, she plopped the glass down in front of her brother.

Without even thanking her, he picked up his glass and took a long swig. "Ahhh, that's what I was needing." he declared.

"Good." his sister said sarcastically.

She continued: "Just to let you know, I just changed your niece's diaper."