Wacky Weekend ...

Freaky Friday

If it wasn’t enough to see an ex during the day, I had a work event later that evening, which was great fun! After the event, I had told my friend, Ms. M that I would go to Santa Monica with her to hear her man’s band play. She assured me that it’s a fun crowd “with lots of cute boys.” (She’s against my Mancation). While the band was good, the crowd was not, at least not to me (which may bear my freak flag).

I asked Ms. M not to leave me alone but the social butterfly she is deserves to fly around the room saying hi to the whole crowd there. Not that I can’t handle myself solo, I suddenly found myself in the middle (literally and metaphorically). Though I saw some familiar faces among the crowd, it was a sea of couples talking about the boat they just bought, a newly engaged woman, the front man kissing on his lady, a hyperactive chick thinking she’s new wave screaming and pretending she can dance, and some guy’s ass on my arm (apparently he couldn’t feel it).  I excused myself from this hodgepodge to use the Ladies Room only to come to a fork in the back of the bar- of what apparently is standing-room-only- of 20-something guys and looking. It was like a lamb going to slaughter so I quickly shimmied my way through unharmed. Whew.

From the powder room, I tried to get a drink, which I might as well have been invisible ‘cause this part of the bar was equally packed to the gills! 20 minutes later I found my way back to Ms. M and the crowd. The couples grew tired for a Friday night and retreated back to their respective habitats. Now I was faced with the drunk, Asian chick who couldn’t stand straight but bumped off every bar patron like a pinball wizard, and her friend who wants to flirt up with the guy who’s been macking on her all night, throws her friend under the bus calling her “crazy” vs. giving the girl some water, making her sit for a while to sober up, or I don’t know, perhaps you should have made her call it night rather than being a selfish bitch cause the guy’s cute. Now my acquaintance is apologizing about his garlic breath from dinner, and I’m fanning it back towards him every time he thinks he’s not burping in my direction. His cousin is hanging on the new-wavy girl I mentioned previously, and despite my feelings of her, she compliments me on my dress (whether it was genuine or not). Cousin quizzes me as to why I’m single. He just moved here and was “almost engaged” once, which sounds like a more interesting story than why am I single, yes? He was going to propose and “knows everything about diamonds that he should sell them.” His cousin, my acquaintance, starts asking me “when we’re going to have babies?”

At some point, one more person bumped into me or drunk, Asian girl bounced off me, and I looked at my friend and said, “I gotta get out of here.” She walks me to my car and I apologize for being a buzz kill but all night was a version of my “hell” and I couldn’t take the anxiety I was feeling. I tucked myself into bed by 2:30am relieved I had made it out alive.
Saturday Night not-Live

I worked all day and got in a zone that I had lost track of all time. My girls were going to an alcohol-sponsored event but I said I wouldn’t be ready in time but that if it were lame, to call me and I’d meet up with them somewhere. Well, the line was ridiculous and they soon left so we all met up at our local hang. I walked into a usually dark bar to a sea of men. I found my lady friends in the back of the bar that clearly had no A/C. I grab a drink and we move towards the front of the bar where there’s a little more room. Seriously I think there was a bachelor party going on, or an after-work function, perhaps a “mancation” – as dudes were high-fiving and yelping the whole night. In Swingers fashion, we proclaimed the “place was dead” and decided to leave quickly. It was midnight and we called it a night so we could at least catch a bit of SNL, f-bomb and all.
Sports Sunday

I awoke anxious to start my ball-watching but my home team wasn’t airing on normal network television so the girls quickly made plans to go watch it somewhere in our hood. Now most of my girls don’t quite care to watch the game – they accompany me for the drinks and food and perhaps the men watching. Stop #1 - $10 pizzas and half off all beer. Sold! As we finished watching the Minnesota game, I requested my team on the TV closest to us. Waitress says, “Oh, we don’t have the NFL package.” Um, seriously? So you advertise to come watch NFL Sundays with these perks yet you don’t have the NFL package? As they start the Miami-SD game, I ask if they could at least turn my TV to a different game. The three broads working couldn’t figure out how to work the remote and my friend and I thought, “Could you please call a man to ask?” which the waitress did. I hear her say, “The girls behind me want to watch a different game, is there a way to do that?” Then turns around to me and says, “Like I said, we don’t have the NFL package and this is the only game being broadcast right now.” The sucky waitress had the balls to say, ”You could go across or down the street, they have the NFL package and you could catch the rest of your game.” WTF? Despite the fact that you’ve managed to piss me off twice, you’re turning my business to your competition. Bright!

I can’t bear missing my boys playing so I run down the street to see the score only to come face to face with a dude already talking trash to me upon seeing my shirt. “Cool,” I chime as I run back to the restaurant to finish our eats and drinks and get the F out of there (vowing never to return) and catch “the rest of my game.” Spot #2 - We were joined by another friend. I had front row to slightly off plasma bearing my game. I was ready to throw beer at this broad for saying “I can’t believe (my team) is winning, they never win.” I heard this and turn, “We won last weekend, thanks.” My friends make sure I don’t start it with the girl who’s wearing a shirt that she thinks cinching with a belt makes it a dress; it doesn’t. After catching up in between my cheers and screams, we moved to the patio for happy hour by the 2 minute warning. Victory! Wooooooooooo! So the stupid broads I encountered all day weren’t able to ruin my entire Football Sunday. Our friend knew of another happy hour (yep that makes that’s #3 for the day) up the street so we decide to keep the momentum going. Upon arriving at this tiny little bar tucked away on the Sunset Strip (just opened a couple of weeks ago), drinks and eats were half off from 3-7. It was only like 4! My partner in crime and I soon discovered that we were on the patio with nothing but lesbians, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but it was interesting to say the least being among these beautiful woman playing flippy cup.

Our waitress ignored me and my friend most of the time, but after F’ing up the bill, we just wanted to pay and get out of there. Upon settling, we go to exit when this guy screams out, “Are you guys leaving?” – wait, are there heterosexual males in this place? - “Yes we are this has been our third stop for the day, its time to call it.” The Outspoken One bragged how his friend was a soap star on Days of Our Lives but the friend was mute…or modest. Maybe Outspoken wants to ride his coattails to get some attention? Soap Stud claimed he was ‘drunk’ and his friend calls him a ‘lightweight’ then says we should meet up with them later at another bar. Hmm? After about 5 minutes of witty banter, cause that’s all I could offer up, Outspoken asks if we’re going to meet up with them at the bar he suggested, I say, “Maybe?” Outspoken’s eyes light up like he’s used to be rejected “Really?!” but he doesn’t know that was my polite way of saying ‘highly unlikely.’ I say how nice it was to meet them and Outspoken says, “That’s it?” “Yes, that’s it,” I say. He quickly tries to recover the ball, “Let me give you my card, oh it’s my last one.” I said, “Then it’s extra special.” “Call me if you want to meet up, or come to my pool party next weekend.” I catch up with my girlfriends who are waiting outside and laugh, “Somehow I got digits out of that.”

I couldn’t wait to be home after a dissatisfying and yet adventurous day with my girls. In the lapse of 3 days, I realized a couple of things, thank god for having a sense of humor, and that I have great friends with whome I adore. Even the most off-night, bad service or lack of anything substantial, they make it worthwhile.

Then the night took a weird turn when Ex Factor and I spoke…