Every now and again, I have a night out that makes me feel like I’m a young, carefree, hot chick again with no responsibilities other than finding a way home. Of course, the problem with these nights are that they invariably end and the next day I remember that I am definitely still not young, probably should’ve cared more than I did the night before, and look and feel like I was run over by a truck. However, glutton for punishment that I am, I can’t wait for the next opportunity to go out. At least, the next really promising opportunity.
Everyone knows that there is a big difference between a regular night out, and a night like I had Saturday night. A regular night out can be fun, and you may drink and carouse and talk about it the next few days, but a night like Saturday you will remember (well, most of the night you’ll remember, anyway) for a long time to come. I trekked all the way out to the South Side Saturday night, there was a surprise party for one of my cousins at a bar in Oak Lawn. I already made plans with his sister to crash by her place, because for some reason whenever I go out on the South Side, I tend to overindulge and lose my ability to drive. (Not that I’d want to anyway) So I was pretty much aware of the fact that a good deal of drinking would be taking place. While getting ready to go to this party, I noticed that my capri’s were actually a little looser than usual. And when I tried on my little camisole top, I didn’t feel like an absolute cow. I put on a little bronzer to give a “healthy glow” and went easy on the rest of the makeup (too much is trashy, especially in the summertime) and slipped into my high wedged sandals. The heels did a good job of toning my calves a little more than usual, and my new pedicure was looking good. I decided to flat iron my hair (no easy task when you have as much hair as I do) and was pretty happy with the results. Bottom line – I was already starting to forget that I had a daughter at a sleepover party and haven’t been carded in years. Defiantly adding the final touch of a Cubs’ “live strong” bracelet (I was going to the South Side, after all), I popped on my shades and hit the road.
I had a drink at my cousin’s before we left for the party, and then her husband drove us to the bar. He was going to be designated driver, and my cousin had already informed me she was looking forward to having fun – and not coming home until the last possible bar had closed. I, on the other had, wasn’t sure I would make it that long, but figured I’d give it the old college try. (Get it? “The old college try”? Because in college I could stay out forever…. Oh, I KILL myself) So we get there, and start I drinking Lite on tap, which was the free drink of the party. Now, I used to drink beer all the time, but as I got older, my taste leaned more toward vodka drinks, specifically flavored vodka and lemonade. So this old body really was not used to all that malt and hops that was flowing into it. But my mind was sure enjoying it. The party was a hit, with a lot of laughs and fun, and when the free alcohol ended at 12:00, we moved from the party room to the regular bar next door. I remember dropping my phone a lot, and insulting sox fans every chance I got, and other than that, I couldn’t quite say. I do know that soon enough that bar closed, and true to her word, my cousin was dragging me off to another bar.
Now, this other bar was really jumping when we got there. I think I ordered a drink, I know I started talking to pretty much any strange man I saw. (Hold on there, buddy – I said “talking” – don’t be so judgmental!!) ANYWAY, my ego shot up about a zillion points because I was getting more attention than I had in a while. (For whatever reason, I seem to have much better luck on the South Side than here in the NW burbs. Guess the guys there just have better taste – if not in baseball at least in women!) I remember playing the “How old are you?” game and having most every guy guess between 25 and 28, which added to my mood. (Whether they really thought that or were deliberately lowballing my age was irrelevant) I managed to take pictures of a couple people I don’t know and will probably never see again, but they were very nice people. I had several “offers” that evening, but politely refused. There was one guy though, a good-looking bouncer who struck my interest, (and wasn’t even drinking!) and who happened to know my cousin. Closer to my real age, and a really nice guy. Nice enough to offer me a ride at the end of the night due to some unexpected drama… which I won’t go into at this point. Until I make sure my cousin is ok (and sobered up) at least. So I took the ride and topped off my evening with some pleasant company. (Like I’d elaborate – I am a lady, after all. Think what you like, my lips are sealed.)
Bottom line is, I finally got home around noon on Sunday, and spent most of the day after I picked up my daughter trying to rehydrate myself and popping advils. But I had a smile on my face the whole time.
Happy birthday Dan – and thanks for the party!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment