Thank God I’m not single. No, not because it would be sad for me and blah, blah, blah. It’s because I’m terrible at playing the game, and I pity any male who would come in contact with my lack of skillZ.
At a bachelorette party this weekend, we had finagled (yes, I did just look up that word) our way into a “reserved” booth at a bar that thinks it’s chic enough to offer reserved tables.
After trying to inspire a dance party that just wasn’t happening in too-cool-for-school establishment, we started doing the next thing one does at a bachelorette party: talk to dudes. Aaaaand this is where I should have made my exit.
It started off as a very deep conversation about Amanda Bynes, and what movies she’s been in since “She’s the Man.” (In my book, any role not including Channing Tatum is not a role worth playing, but I digress.)
I had even slyly passed off this seemingly normal guy to my single friend, and they were hitting it off. Perfect, P. Now leave it alone…
…but who wants to leave love to chance when you can be as subtle as a train wreck?
“So, are you gonna get her number? Are you going to call her?”
- Oh no, you didn’t! Oh yes. I did.
- But surely you didn’t do this after less than 10 minutes? I did.
- At least you didn’t ask him in front of her…? I DID.
As I was being dragged away, I could hear him say, “Wow. You’re really digging here, aren’t you?” The night ended with said friend pulling me out of the bar and into a cab with her. You know she’s a good friend if she’ll still share a cab with you after a blunder like that.
I wish I could be like Jamie Foxx and blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol, but I had stopped drinking three hours prior.
(audible sigh) That’s what happens, I guess, when you haven’t dated anyone since you were 19. Happy 10 years to my hubby; you’re stuck with me! Let’s raise a toast to that, and the fact that the Chi-town dating scene is a better place without me in it.
What skillZ do you lack over a decade of in use?
Stay social, mom friends. (Just have a little more social sense than I do.)