Utter Shit

The girls went out last night. Do I need to even tell the rest of the story? I mean from that you can surmise I am hungover…maybe even still drunk…what else is there to tell?

It was a great night. We went to a chi-chi restaurant where I have had a $100 gift certificate for years and we finally spent it on drinks (raspberry lemon drops and cucumber martinis) and appetizers (more drinks than food). Then we stumbled down the block to one of our new favorite dive bars.

The night gets fuzzy…fun conversations with married 40+ year old children of agents I know….rich single guys buying me LARGE vodka tonics. We checked out the fake cans on 23 year olds with these guys, we debated female vs. transsexual at the bar, and one tried to tell me why I am still single. I summed it up for him and told him “I am difficult”. Which I am. And I then proved it.

The older boys left. And the young ones moved in. The taller one was more my type physically. But he was such a drunk tard that by the end of the night I sort of wanted to punch him. The shorter, blonder one, was sort of interesting. He worked in futures and commodities. So I kept hollering “pork bellies” just for fun. I am sure he tried to explain what he does, but by that time I was in full Mere mode. Not listening, contrary, and a bit flirty.

If approached in a bar, with liquor in my system, I tend to debate things.  You say white…I say black…not because I believe in black…it is just how I am.  So there I am…talking to a cute 29 year old commodities broker (wtf?) who obviously wants to get to know me, I am being ornery, and Michelle keeps telling him that I am “nice under all of this….I swear”.

We ended up texting each other til 2:30…in retrospect I think he was trying for an invite over, but bringing guys home from bars never even enters my mind.  I suck at being single.  Anyway…supposedly there are plans for dinner on Sunday after the game.  We will see if he really calls.