The weekend I had was something. I have yet to decide if it was something remarkable or ridiculous (though I'm leaning towards the latter), but it surely was nothing short of eventful. It was a weekend where almost every minute was filled with something to do, which I tend to enjoy. Here's the recap:
Friday:
I went to a VIP party for a new bar opening up in the town where I live (not to be confused with the town I party in.... this was no VIP party in NOLA, but it was good enough). I was told the dress code was "look nice," which I interpreted as dress for a night out but don't look like a tramp. Easy enough. Armed with my favorite LBD and some fancy new heels, I hit the road. The bar was nice, the drinks were free and I knew just about everyone there. It was a good night for the most part. The part that bothered me was how many times I was approached by guys I knew saying, "You look hot" (or some variation). I'm not one to shy away from a compliment, so that wasn't the issue. I also know that my typical look for work and home involves minimal makeup and casual clothing and that my going-out look tends to get reactions from people who aren't used to seeing me this way (I think I took She's All That to heart a little too much). My problem? Thanks for the kind words, but I believe your wife is looking for you. Not a problem if the guy is saying, "You look nice," but the word hot conjures up totally different emotions. And the married thing was the case 98% of the time. The times when it wasn't: the bar owner told me I should get dressed up pretty and head to his bar often to "pick up chicks." I know I'm rarely ever seen with a guy (lately I just can't seem to tolerate them), but I'm not about to switch teams (that's not how that works anyway). I didn't feel a need to get on my soapbox, so I responded with a smile and "You're right. That sounds like a great idea." Conversation over. The other time was when a guy I knew to be unmarried told me he barely recognized me all dressed up. I thanked him and we started talking about how it had been a while since we'd seen each other. I remarked, "Last time I saw you, you were just moving in with your girlfriend." (I'm surprisingly smooth sometimes.) He told me that didn't work out and I started thinking this was going well... and then... one of his friends walked up and told him his girlfriend needed a refill. His face turned red, he walked away, and I spent the rest of my night hanging out "safe" people. The point is that, yes, it's nice to be noticed and complimented. But it gets really annoying when it's coming from guys who are completely unavailable - and if you have a wedding ring or a girlfriend, in my book, that makes you COMPLETELY unavailable. It's like knowing yesterday's winning lottery numbers - totally useless. Do me a favor and keep it to yourself. Obviously, should circumstances change, feel free to share your feelings, though that's no guarantee that they will be reciprocated. Which leads us to....
Saturday:
One of my BFF's was celebrating her birthday and we went to a local bar to party. It was also the night of the "official" reunion for our high school class, which was combined with the "official" reunion for the graduation class a year after us. Aforementioned friend and I threw an "unofficial" party last year (because an 11 year reunion makes no sense) and had decided against going to the recent one, but we knew almost everyone who attended would show up at the same bar. Two birds, one stone. My night was spent with lots of "I haven't seen you in soooo long!" comments and plenty of reminiscing and catching up. And then somebody played a cruel joke on me, or so it seemed. It certainly doesn't seem like reality. Not one, not 2, but 4 of the guys I spoke with told me they'd had a crush on me for a really long time. It got to the point that when the 4th guy said those words, I asked him if he was fu@$!ng kidding me and who had paid him to tell me that. Seriously, that shit doesn't happen to me... or anyone outside of a Hollywood movie. It would be different if the conversation was more like "I had the biggest crush on you but now..." That's not how it was, though. It was along the lines of "I had the biggest crush on you! I can't believe you're single and here we are." Again with the starry eyed nonsense? Stop that, fellas. I'm the girl here, not you.
Then came the pissing contests. There were conversations between guys over whether I was there with one of them, or going home with one of them, or if one was cock blocking another. Do I not get a say in any of this? The best part was that some of these guys gossip worse than girls I know, and they proceeded to tell me all the sordid details of their conversations with each other about me. This is about the point in time where I should've shouted, "To hell with all of you!" and run out the door, but it seems I spent Saturday without a conscience or much sense at all. I can't blame it on the alcohol. I knew I had plans with my dad for Father's Day and didn't want to disappoint him by being hungover, so being drunk wasn't it. For reasons I still can't understand, I stuck around and endured the foolishness. I didn't put my foot down. I didn't tell them to go jump off a cliff or annoy some other girl. I guess I was just being an attention whore. I did draw the line at the almost-fight. There is absolutely nothing attractive about guys fighting over you. It's very caveman-esque and made me feel like a piece of property. Not cool.
Luckily, Saturday ended and Sunday came around, bringing with it my conscience and hopefully some better decision-making skills. I have another crazy busy weekend of partying ahead of me, so we'll see if that holds true.
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