When we meet again, introduced as friends
I left work on Thursday frustrated, even angry, which is why I didn’t turn right around as planned to head to Oakland with Dancing Roommate for a 70s/80s night at a tiki bar. I just couldn’t face the inevitable collection of rockabilly kids I knew would have followed the DJ across the Bay. Not before coming down from my day. Not before tequila. So I took the Ex-ALM, freshly returned from over a year living and working in a foreign country, up on an invitation for dinner. We ended up at my very favorite snooty-poo Mexican place…where The Dangerous Ex works. These two men of my past had never met and I was OK with that. I might even have encouraged it.
Guess who was our server?
I had the first margarita because it had been a long day. I had the second because I felt surrounded by my past. The third just appeared, courtesy of The Dangerous Ex.
Despite the haze of tequila, I made it over to the tiki bar and danced a bit, but the night quickly dissolved into me napping in a chair on the dance floor. (Yes, ON the dance floor.)
On Friday, in black silk at The Redwood Room, C and I were rescued from a 65-year-old Greek man by a couple who were eloping the next day. They gave us their table and the rest of their bottle of Grey Goose. We toasted love and choosing the life you want, even when it’s hard.
On Saturday, C and I shopped. All day. That evening I watched a few pyromaniacs create a homemade light show. I held my first sparkler, wondered why anyone would spend that much on fireworks, and tried to be as brave as the 3 1/2-year-old who squealed with joy at every single pop and bang.
The Ex-ALM and I met for coffee yesterday. It was lovely. And brutal. I can lie to myself, but I can’t lie to him. Or to C. Or to The Dangerous Ex. They said it very differently – the Ex-ALM even used a Constructicon reference – but they all had the same advice. Since that’s about as rare as finding the perfect pair of jeans on sale in a store where you have a gift card, I know they must be right. I’m just not sure I was ready to hear it.
Busty Satan 
Peter DeWolf said,
July 7, 2009 at 9:00 am
“napping in a chair on the dance floor”
Yowzers, lady!
BS said,
July 7, 2009 at 3:19 pm
I woke up and danced to Jessie’s Girl. Does that make it better?
SoMi's Nilsa said,
July 7, 2009 at 9:25 am
I’ve had a few days in the recent past where I could’ve used 3 margaritas, too. I’m impressed you made it to the next location. Me? I would’ve been napping with my head in the salsa. =)
BS said,
July 7, 2009 at 3:19 pm
I’m impressed too! I certainly wasn’t driving.
Bridget said,
July 7, 2009 at 10:36 pm
I once fell asleep in a chair in the middle of a piano bar. I should say passed out but asleep sounds better. Anyway, it sounds like the vodka was needed … and the tequila too!