Thursday, May 18, 2006
Why I'm Not Dating......#3
Yeah, yeah....so I'm supposed to write about SSM's coming home party. But damnit!! I'm not writing this blog for him -- please remember: It IS all about me, right!?!?!? And, lets remember: I have not had a date in forever.... "What the hell!! Perhaps there'll be some attractive and available man that meets my criteria: job, hair, teeth. Okay, in the proper order: hair, teeth, job. Okay, okay, hair and teeth are tied for first, then job...
but I digress.
Man market!! We all know the Tower is the hetro male hotbed. Surely I could find some guy interested in buying me a drink. Marcel and I started the evening - actually, he and Jimmy had started before me. I ordered my one "big girl" drink -- mostly so that Mr. Mike would let me stay. And we waited for SSM. And I scoped the joint for hot hetro guys. scoping, scoping..... The kowboi showed up, and immediately took his shirt off (geez! he's almost as hairy as SSM.... I think they might be related......)and basked in the attention from the nubile young 'uns at the bar. Hmmmmmm....maybe he's onto something.....maybe.....I too, should take my shirt off......perhaps, I should become "shirtless girl!" Finding strength in my one big girl drink, and encouragement from Nic (whose hair, by the way, looked Mah-va-lous), I retreated to the Loo, and took my shirt off. The girls didn't look too bad. Okay, okay, after I squinted and removed three of the lightbulbs the girls didn't look too bad. Awesome animal print skirt (the troubadour would SO-O-O-O-O- luv this one.....)And hey, the gams ain't so bad.... Taking a deep breath(Uh-huh, the deep breath was primarily to suck in what I could of my gut....) , I exited the Loo. Strutting the length of the restaurant I could hear the encouraging calls from the patio. "Giggy! Giggy!" came the calls. "Uh-huh!" I thought to myself, "I am so giggy!" I felt empowered. Jauntily tossing the door open, I made my entrance onto the patio. "You want Giggy!?!? Here we--" I began.
The 100 people packed into the patio had not been,"giggy! giggy!" but had instead, been cheering, "Jimmy! Jimmy!"
Once again, I have been upstaged by that dyslexic foreigner, Lecram. Lecram and that damn hand - Jimmy.
And that, my friends, is SO-O-O-O why I am NOT dating.....
welcome the frick home, SSM.
Dance, monkeyboy, dance.