Hey out there. So, it seems that it has been over a week since I posted, so what if I just tell you a little bit about my evening? Great!
Last night I had a date with a guy who I had only met very briefly before, and who came with no references (I couldn’t ask any friends about him), and I didn’t actually have a very good feeling about this date. But I followed through and told myself I had to go anyway – because I am open-minded! Or I can pretend to be anyway. At least I am open to being convinced that I was horribly wrong.
Since he was pretty much a stranger, I suggested we meet at the restaurant – a very casual place that just happens to be in my neighborhood (I am lazy) – and I knew I would make it there in plenty of time! But tragically, I seem to have inherited this gene from my mom’s side of the family that tells me I must do everything last minute – like shower and dry the hair and locate the clothes in a small amount of time. This was particularly problematic last night because we are in the midst of a change in seasons, and as I live in a house with tiny closets, I keep my off season clothes in the basement – beneath many boxes.
1st problem: I have a skirt in mind to wear – but where is the skirt? It’s a spring skirt, so I haven’t seen it in a long time. I look through my closet, I run downstairs to the basement, I scatter boxes everywhere. I run back upstairs, I pull everything off the shelf of my closet. Back downstairs for more rummaging. One more time through the closet – and alas! The skirt is located!
2nd problem: I am now running late. But I don’t really need to dry all of my hair, right? (Did I mention I have a bad feeling about this?)
3rd problem: My plan to battle lateness is to wait until I’m ready to walk out the door before putting on boots. Because although it is springy, it is still chilly. And boots mean I can’t walk as fast – so see, I’m saving time with my nimble bare feet! As soon as I pull the boots on, I realize that they definitely don’t work with the skirt I spent so much time locating. My roommate, AP, confirms this. She suggests other types of shoes – but they are all spring shoes! And I haven’t gotten those out yet this year! Because did I mention I do things last minute? Jeans! Can I wear jeans? “Where are you going?”, she asks. I tell her, and she assures me that of course I can wear jeans. What else would one wear to our neighborhood deck hangout?
4th problem: As I am running out the door now fully clothed, I suddenly remember that although the skirt I thought I was going to wear was high-waisted, these jeans are actually low-waisted. Very low wasted. And as all girls and boys who have a pair of low-rise jeans know, you have to select your undergarments carefully for these. But you know how sometimes you’re at Victoria’s Secret and they are having a sale? And they have all that underwear in the bins for $1? And it’s all ugly colors in ugly patterns – which is why no one ever bought it? But then you think, hey, it’s $1! No one ever has to see this! Maybe you think, “I’ll just wear these with that high-waisted skirt.” Mmhmm. So I reach back, confirm that my ugly underwear is rising high above my jeans, and shout my concern to AP. By this point, she is more mortified by lateness, and like a good coach, yells, “Just go! Go! Go! Sit with your back the chair! GO!” (What would I do without a roommate?)
5th problem: He is wearing a suit. I am wearing jeans. With ugly underwear that is showing.
6th problem: The waitress comes and asks for our drink orders – I order a beer, he orders a chardonnay. Ok, maybe this shouldn’t necessarily be a problem, but as it happens moments after the suit/jeans contrast, I am feeling pretty class-less at this point.
7th problem: We order an appetizer, and the he says the words that no sane (food-loving) girl ever wants to hear – ever! “Since we are having this appetizer, I think I will just order a side salad. I don’t usually eat supper, so that will be a lot of food for me.” Uh… What?? This does not compute. So, after gazing longingly at the 7-layer Mexican torte, I content myself with a cup of soup. Because at least this doesn’t have to last long.
But really. Who the hell denies a girl her opportunity to feast?? A monster, that’s who! Ok, fine. He was pretty nice. But I was hungry, damnit. I swam yesterday! Like, laps! And I had no food at home. I guess I could have ordered a big meal anyway, but I was glad I didn’t. Because he was nice enough, but the evening was pretty dull. He told me a lot about what he does for work, which sounded a lot like this, “blah, blah, finance, blah, blah, blah, finance, blah, blah.” Does anyone else ever have a problem concentrating on what a person is saying – maybe you are even thinking about something else they said. Like that joke they made that went like this, “I might not fit through my doorway tonight after eating all this (side salad)!” And then he laughed pretty hard as his joke, so you thought maybe you misunderstood, so you ask him to repeat it, but no, you heard right. Anyway, you are thinking about something like that, and suddenly there is a pause and you realize you have just been asked a question, and smiling and nodding won’t work anymore? But you have no idea what they were just talking about? Well, there was a lot of that going on. (Blay, I know you are with me here.)
So, that was my night. Instinct, you have not failed me yet. Why do I keep testing you? With your help, not only could I have had a satisfying meal, but I also wouldn't have had to come home to find the contents of my closet all over my bedroom floor.
And yet, I have a feeling this will not be my last act of disobedience.
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