I escaped the homestead recently to “prowl”.
And by prowl I mean search for intelligent life with a vocabulary of more than 1 syllable words.
I went OUT with a friend.
I was so excited. I got ready…
and because the sitter was there to help I only had to wipe spaghetti off my pants twice.
Ready and trying to leave.
Because I am basically dragging an extra 31 pounds with me.
My child seemed to be superglued to my leg.
…all the while screaming and trying to ruin my otherwise happy mood.
“MOMMY you can no be ser-us.”
“ You has to stay. “
“MOMMMMYYY. I so need you a stay. “
“Honey you will b fine. “
“But Mommy I needs you. I be so sad when you gone. Can I go?”
“NO” – said at lightening speed.
Then the little one cries because her big sister is crying.
I have moved about 5 steps because my leg is now cramping from the extra weight.
I could have been half way to Aspen by now…
sans the unwilling child.
“Mommy I need, I need you a paint my nails.”
How is this critical? I mean if she was 16 maybe.. .
But 3 ½… I don’t think so.
My friend is trying to help me out the door and we manage to squeeze pass the babies.
Honestly it is as if I have just oxygenated.
Mostly divine except for that twinge of guilt. I hear it never goes away. I can hear them screaming as we get to the car.
I NEED a break. I mean I NEED a break.
It is an evening of fun and lovely conversation. My friend and I are feeling pretty good. Perhaps we will even meet a nice man to chat up tonight. FUN!
I mean I work from home most of the time, so male-wise I see the guy who checks me in at the gym, periodically my dry cleaner and the postman Randy
(who is married with 5 kids and his wife wants another one but with the economy and a possible cancellation of mail delivery on Tuesdays, he is just not sure ) –
see why I need to get out?
We arrive at our 2nd location (as we are prowling you must move from place to place to see and be seen). Our too cute for words hostess is seating us. Okay we are excited too, you see, as there are lots of men here. But…
We keep walking..
Until we are the very back of the restaurant…
As far as humanly possible from the bar area…
Anyone at the bar would require binoculars to actually see us.
It’s okay we say….
we will eat and then go to the supposedly hottest place in town for late night frivolity
(and just so you know Late Night for me means 9:00 pm.)
So our server appears and is…
I do not care – really I do not.
But come on man…
We are miles away from any man seeing us and we also get lesbian server…
When there are cabana boys basically all over the place.
Did we anger the Gods?
Very nice meal…
we are discussing the meaning of life…
which is really what are we going to do when Oprah goes off the air …
I mean with all sincerity…
WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?
I cannot even think about it.
We finish and head to the front of the bar/restaurant.
Making out the shapes of boys at the bar as we head to our next stop…
Utopia I hear it is…
It’s all the rage and guaranteed to be fun and fruitful with the men.
Yeah! We have arrived!
“Um ladies… you cannot come in tonight”
I SHAVED my legs.
“Ladies we are closed”
It’s Saturday night?
I have on something other than Yoga Panta
I curled my hair.
“We are closed”
“For a wedding”
Are you kidding me?