I. Was. Trashed.
Like really trashed. Like trashed to the point where I was having to think verrrry carefully about what I was saying, so that I wouldn’t slur my words.
I am actually usually quite good about not drinking too much on dates. I always stick to a two drink limit and it’s never been a problem. But the lack of food in the past 48 hours had given me no buffer for the alcohol whatsoever. So even though I’d only had 3/4 of a vodka soda, I was a drunken mess.
Stupid juice cleanse.
“Fuck the juice cleanse!”
“Fuck the juice cleanse?”
“Yes! Fuck it!” she said, and she threateningly waved her champagne glass at me.
I looked over at Caitlyn and Marlie. “Fuck the juice cleanse?”
“Fuck it,” said Marlie, nodding.
“Yep. Fuck the juice cleanse,” Caitlyn agreed.
“Hmm,” I said, mulling this over. “Fuck the juice cleanse…”
Those of a certain age, you will remember in 1988 when Van Halen released the second album with Sammy Hagar as the lead singer: ‘OU812’. Now, despite what you may have thought of the album itself (I know some of you have never gotten over the loss of David Lee Roth) what was undoubtedly cool was the title. I remember thinking, “WOW. It’s letters and numbers but YOU CAN SAY IT AS A SENTENCE! WOWWOWWOW!!!!” Not a lot of bands had done that before, and this sort of short-speak was new and unique.
Now of course, it is commonplace. ‘U’ has replaced the incredibly difficult and laborious spelling of ‘you’ and thank goodness someone came up with ‘2’ as opposed to ‘to!’ I don’t know about you, but typing out that one other character to actually write the word was really bringing me down. Continue reading Is It Just Me?
“What’s your idea of a great first date?”
“Geesh, I don’t know.”
“Tracey. Come on,” she replied.
I sighed to myself.
Her next IM flashed up in my inbox. “Okay, just use this template: On a first date, I enjoy discussing _____ over _____ at _____.”
“I’m busy,” I replied.
“TRACEY. COME ON.”
“DO NOT ALL-CAPS ME.”
“YOU ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY.”
“No, YOU are driving ME crazy.”
“I’m coming over.”
“Omg. Please don’t.”
No response. She was already on her way.
No doubt about it. Lux was on a mission.
The emails kept coming in. I tried to reply to them as soon as they arrived, but just as I’d press ‘send’ to one, another two or three would land in my inbox.
I was drowning at work.
The day after I’d returned from my West Coast training trip for the new part-time responsibilities my New Boss was allowing me to take on, I was given another person to support. So now, not only was trying to prove myself in the new role, I was once again assisting three Executives. As well as attempting to manage my duties as NY Site Leader of the Wellness Group, not to mention continue my very important post as President of the Fun Committee. In all the chaos, I’d completely ignored my position as the Co-Founder of the Gum Culture Task-Force. There was only one sad, stale, half-consumed pack of Watermelon Trident left.
“Not even a bootycall?”
“Not even a bootycall.”
“So you got nothin’?”
“I got nothin’,” I said, shaking my head.
“That’s a damn shame,” said Sean, as he took a sip of his Guiness. “No one to drunk-text.”
“Nope, no one to drunk-text,” I sighed. I took a sip of my Bud Light. “Well, except My Ex, of course. I drunk-text him all the time.”
Sean gave me a look.
He was tall. He had a fantastic smile. And when he lifted his beer bottle to his mouth, his t-shirt sleeve rose up and we could see a glimpse of the tatoo that circled his upper arm.
This guy was HOT.
“Wow,” I said, as we entered the bar. “I didn’t think this place would be so big.”
“Me neither,” Marlie agreed. “And with so many people.” The atmosphere was more like a club than the intimate lounge setting we’d been expecting. Dance music pumped through the speakers and the dim concrete and dark wood space seemed incongruous with the early evening sun that still blazed outside.
After we got our drinks, we looked over the ‘Ice Breaker’ cards we’d been given when we checked in. These were a list of questions we were supposed to ask the Firemen in order to get them talking. But I just couldn’t imagine myself actually starting a conversation with:
“What is the best type of protection for a Firefighter?
1) Fireproof Suit
2) Oxygen Mask
3) A Condom”
Not Quite A Cougar 