Ugh. Amigos. I am a MESS. I completely forgot to bring EVERYTHING to work today (including mandatory articles of clothing that necessitated an early-morning shopping trip for undergarments), I’ve been falling asleep all day, and I actually think I saw Jesus during my workout this morning.
But, dates stop for no girl!* And, in my quest to forget about the artist formerly known as Mr. Chicago, they keep me distracted and liquored up. Don’t question my strategy, it works, damn it!
*No girl who wants free stuff
This is what led me to a date with 26-year-old Husband, who I hadn’t been talking to for very long, but who seemed very sweet over text. Although, he did have an alarming number of pictures with the same young boy, who I presumed was his nephew but very realistically could have been his son. Hey, as long as he doesn’t bring Sonny Boy along for drinks, I’m in the clear!
He was inside Lyon Hall when I got there, and when I saw him, I was like “Heeeeey there, tall, dark, and handsome.” Seriously, what a HUNK. The first thing he said (after we shared a mutual hug, YOU HEAR THAT MR. GUY-I-PUNCHED-IN-THE-SIDE?!?!) was “You look beautiful. Can I buy you a drink?” Well, don’t mind if I do! We each got an SJF, the best frickin drink on the planet (Moscow Mule with homemade ginger beer), and took seats at a little side bar away from the ratchet goings-on of the main bar (VERY strange crowd). We started chatting, and at first he was a little bit tight-lipped, but something about the alcohol and my bubbly personality loosened him up. I asked him about his time deployed in Afghanistan, he asked me about my favorite places in DC, things were going well! And he hadn’t mentioned anything about having a child!!
And, just when I thought my bad date streak had come to a close, I casually mentioned that my best friend A is getting married next summer (ew, wtf, I know. Commitment? She’s weird. I still love her dearly).
ALL OF A SUDDEN, THE WORLD CHANGED. Lightning flashed, thunder crashed, a giant beanstalk grew from the ground, locusts swarmed the restaurant. A house fell on a witch! Animals could walk and talk and do the hula! (Sorry, am I getting my story lines mixed up?)
And, most noticeably, a gleam emerged in Hubby’s eye.
“Married, you say?!” he cackled, clearly hatching a plan. “You know, all of my siblings are married… my friends are getting married… everyone is having kids… I’m really searching for a good wife.”
I coughed into my drink and visibly recoiled. “Haha, that’s so funny!” I choked out, suddenly wishing I had about seven more drinks in me. “Did I mention I’m 22 and loOoOve Natty Light and Burnetts and also Satan and I’m actually the Devil incarnate? I hate children! I hate the institution of marriage! I’m a lesbian!”
I honestly thought he would drop to one knee and propose right then and there. Lucky for me, he snapped out of his lover’s trance just as I realized that it was 9 PM and I hadn’t eaten dinner. Sounds like a good reason to go home to me! He walked me to my apartment building, and I gave him a quick hug and a “don’t forget! I kick puppies for fun!” before running inside, sprinting up the stairs, and basking in my singledom in peace. If being single means I avoid marriage and kids for a while, then this might not actually be so bad.