Next week has to be better!
This week started with a big bang. It has also been one of weird balances. For every positive accomplishment, there seemed to be an equally negative occurrence.
Example #1: I sold my car at a price higher than I anticipated. Very good. Thieves busted the driver’s side window and ripped out the radio, GPS, and took everything out of the glove box and arm rest. As if that wasn’t enough, sometime after the break-in a neighborhood cat dragged a bird through the open window and made a dinner of it, leaving blood and feathers everywhere. Very Bad.
Example #2: I’m up for a job, which will let me write my column in an online paper twice a week. It comes with a sweet salary. I just need to prove that I can write a little grittier. Very good. I decide to write about a topic that I feel strongly about. I go undercover with a friend and we almost get the crap beat out of us. Didn’t know I could run that fast! Very bad.
What does a girl do after thanking the Big Guy Upstairs profusely for her survival? She hangs out with her friends to try to find some normalcy, which is sadly lacking, in her life. My friends and I decided to go to a local eatery with a rather interesting bar. The place was packed and my friends and I were having a good time laughing, joking and sharing rather ribald anecdotes.
As the night progressed, I found myself in search of the lady’s room. I think I should tell you first that staring at a computer screen all day, plus alcohol intake, minus glasses, equals a very merry woman who can’t see well. Down the dark hall I pranced (there was a catchy tune playing), encased in my happy buzz and I walked into the first door I saw with a familiar symbol. The first sight that greeted me was what I thought was a woman with her back toward the entrance; pants down, facing what I believed were a bank of sinks. I stood there puzzled and a bit shocked when she turned around and after seeing me, yelled in a deep baritone “Hey lady! Wrong room?”
What? Now I’m truly confused so I moved a little closer, trying to sharpen my murky vision. As I got closer, I realized the protester was a guy with long blonde hair and what I thought was a bank of sinks were actually urinals. Imagine my mortification! Even more embarrassing was that the guy had turned to face me fully with his pants still drawn down and I was close enough to make out a lot of little details. I got out of there so fast it made my fuzzy head spin.
Later on, I spied the guy, from what I now know was the men’s room, a few tables away and sent him a drink and apology via the waitress. Right before we left that night, in return, the guy sends me a drink and a business card with his phone number on it.
Frankly, you’d think the guy would be embarrassed. I sure as heck was. Would you make a pass at a person who’d just seen your goods?