I told you after spring break that I was going on a tear-of the social kind-and I have managed to stay true to that goal. It’s crazy how much randomness occurs when you leave your apartment. My girlfriends and I were considering taking it easy on Friday night when we heard about this charity event so we were shockingly low maintenance about it and threw on some old black dresses and went to grab sushi before. For some reason it was a complete meatfestival in the restuarant. I know meatfestival isn’t a word but I’m making it one because there’s no better way to describe it. Anyways, these 3 large dudes approached us about an hour into dinner and asked for recommendations to grab a drink, but they had to work in the morning. I coulda sworn one was missing a tooth, but besides that they were all attractive and shockingly not douchey. They went on their way and we headed to the charity event. About an hour into that, my 2 friends and I realized we were drinking Bud Heavy in cocktail attire and hovering over the sweet potato fries like we hadn’t just gorged ourselves on sushi for 2 hours. I asked a woman standing next to me if the fries were good. She gave me a once over and said, “When’s the next time you have to get in a bikini?” Really lady? Instead of saying anything back to that, my retort was shoveling a handful of fries in my face and washing them down with the most caloric beer possible and muttering, “tonight”. Of course I didn’t mean that and she definitely didn’t get the joke. I moved onto the candy bar. Is it wrong to put handfuls of hot tamales in my purse? I normally wouldn’t steal candy from a charity event, but the tickets were 125 dollars so I figured I could snake some hot tamales. They weren’t even real hot tamales, they were faux cinnamon jellybeans.
We skirted out of there and headed to our typical weekend spot. Much to our surprise, the hot 3 pack of dudes were still at the place I recommended. I knew they weren’t from around here when they asked us to join them for drinks at our table and their social skills were really on point. What do you know, but Kevin Connelly was sitting at the table smoking one of those electronic cigarettes. E was smoking an E cig. I said that, he was not amused. Turns out as sporty-lesi as most of my co-workers make me out to be, I didn’t put it together until we sat down at the table, that these guys are “working’ on Saturday because they are professional hockey players. So we did what any good gambler would do and got the opposing team absolutely hammered. Rounds of shots that the bartender has yet to name, so we decided on “Wet Dog” and “Daddy Issues”. The latter could not be more true for the 3 of us. I also learned that toothless is not a dealbreaker so at least I have more male options now. They went back to their hotel and that’s where that story ends so sorry for any disappointment there. No 50 Shades of NHL Grey going on. They did give us tickets to the game the following day, which meant yet another night of socializing for me.
Let’s skip Saturday night and move onto Sunday. Sometimes, you have these realizations that just a few years when you are in the 26-30 range, can make a huge difference. Take J-si for example. He went from married and living in my apartment building to married, baby, homeowner and baby #2 all within the last 2 years. Anyway, I threw on some blush so I didn’t look like I had been at a Walking Dead costume party and tried to figure out what baby store was open before noon since the party started at 11 and I am a gift procrastinator. I got my Charlize Theron from Monster self together and sat in the parking lot of Buy, Buy Baby until until they opened. I got something called a Snuggle Bunny just because I loved the name and something on her registry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I walked through that store for half an hour and not one part of me went, “Awwww”. If anything it made me realize how far from that I am. A guy I know told me on Friday night at that charity event that I won’t be happy unless I’m married with house and baby by the time I turn 30. I strongly disagreed with him to the point that we argued about it and I finally had to say, “Look man, I am not worried about a damn husband and mini me. I am more worried that I will feel like I have no purpose and won’t be happy with myself.” Back to the baby shower, Holly and I exchanged knowing glances about how foreign that baby stuff is to us. I love my girlfriends that have that in their life and most of them seem fulfilled, completely and happy. Babies make me feel like I’m in the middle of the Pakistan. Completely lost, foreign language and quite smelly. I’ve always just assumed that I would have children, it’s just the wedding hoopla I don’t have any desire for, but I think my maternal instincts have disappeared. Maybe my ovaries are just playing hide and seek. Like hiding for years and they will come out and be like BOO, I need to make babies. Maybe they will never show themselves again and I will be the one buying gifts an hour before a baby shower and trying to carry 100 pound of baby into a party where I don’t belong.