Bringing it in Right

     2010 was long, and filled with many men and dates.  But of all my meetings last year there was only one relationship that worked out.  It only seemed fitting to spend my New Year’s Eve with that relationship. 

     The first member of that relationship was found on Craigslist.  The others came from my golf lessons.  And by December I had a good collection.  So why not ring in the New Year with them?  Of course getting the whole clan on the same page was a little hard, but I did have half of my fabulous group of wingwomen with me.

     We started the night with pre-drinks at Buddha Babe’s (she has an insanely large collection of Buddha figurines) place and then headed to a bar.  Walked in already tipsy.  Walked passed a table of four pouting biddies, probably a good five to ten years older than us.  Good reason to pout, my girls are pretty hot.

     Were seated, scoped the place out…mostly women.  Kind of sucked.  Didn’t really care though.  We already had the plan that we were going to be the party.  A plan that worked out magnificently. 

First, ordered a round of beers.  Next, piled our three drunk asses into the photo booth they had set up.  Buddha Babe got in first, followed by Badger Gal (she’s a good’ol Wisconsin girl) in the middle.  By the time I got in, legs were everywhere and finding your “good” side wasn’t an option.  All of the sudden there was a countdown, a flash, and then suddenly “photo 4.”  Huh?  What happened to 1, 2, and 3?  We thought there might have been an error so we tried again.  Same thing.  Now that our slow-to-catch-on asses figured out that they just took them right in a row, we decided to try one more time.  Stumbled out of booth, had an audience.  Waited for pictures.  I bent down and picked them up.  Three strips of pictures that all came out with half of my head, half of Buddha Babe, and a big cheesy smile from Badger Gal front and center and looking anywhere but the camera.

     Holding the pictures, I made a comment about how bad they were.  Manager Dude with glasses saw that as an opportunity to checked me out, tell me I’m beautiful, and that the pictures weren’t that bad.  Due to the low testosterone in the crowd and him actually being kind of cute, I took the compliment with a smile said something vague and then stammered my way back to the table before looking like a complete incompetent lush.  Because let’s face it, I was heading in that direction.

     Night rolled on and our table was starting to collect people.  And why wouldn’t we?  When you are laughing and having a great time people just want to join you.  So they did.  This royally ticked off the table of pouty biddies.

     Next on my agenda of drunkeness was to help the needy.  A man in a gingham jacket and his friend were lingering around our table.  Buddha Babe was talking to the friend and Gingham just kept looking in my direction with eyes that said, “I’m trying to make eyes at you, but I have no game and don’t no how, and let’s face it, you’re out of my league.”  I could see that he was, very unsuccessfully, attempting to move to the beat of the music.  I don’t remember exactly what I said during my impromptu dance lesson, but I do recall shouting, “It’s all in the hips.  It’s all in the hips.”  The best I could get out of him was swaying side to side and he kept insisting on adding a little bounce to it.  Poor white boy Gingham.  But my lesson must have worked a little magic.  By the end of the night he was disturbingly rubbing up and grinding on one of the pouty biddies.  Guess she wasn’t so pouty anymore.

     The night was winding down, but of course it wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t give my number out to someone.  Throughout the night I was chatting it up with the DJ’s roomie, a thin black guy whose only been in LA about six months.  By this time names eluded me, but damn if he didn’t smell good.  My true kryptonite.  I shouted out the wrong number to him.  Then I read it.  Realized it was wrong and shouted out the correct one.  Fortunately, with mostly women in the bar, no one else copied down the number I was so freely shouting.

     Left the bar.  No cabs in sight.  Started walking in the direction of Badger Gal’s apartment thinking we would see a cab.  None.  Good thing we were toasted and couldn’t feel the pain of walking about a half a mile in three to four-inch heels.  That would be tomorrow’s problem.

     New Year’s Day was a day of vegging and recuperating.  And let me tell you, we were doing much better than our Ihop comrades, over hearing a guy with fresh stitches say, “Nothing a trip to the ER couldn’t fix.”  After Ihop, we made our way back to Buddha Babe’s to continue with vegging.  When I finally got off of Buddha Babe’s couch and drove home, I received a text from the DJ’s roomie asking how I was.  I told him I was fine.  And then he texted back:

“Do you remember me?”

Zia: I’m going to venture to say you’re the one person I gave my number to.  I remember you smelled really good…but I may need an assist on name…

“Lol.  That’s me.”

Zia’s Thoughts: Dude, name?  What’s your NAME?  I even fessed up to not knowing it.  Quick, be clever.

Zia: Soooo, you just want me to call you “Mr. Smells Good?”

     He finally texted back with his name and then fessed up to not catching mine either.

“I have you in my phone as beautiful.”

Zia:  Yeah, I go by that a lot.  Or when I’m not a superhero, my street name is Zia.

     Ah, year’s off to a great flirty sarcastic start already.  Gonna be a good year.



  1. Mama J. Said:

    Loved reading this one!!! I felt like I was there 🙂 Sounds like a lot of fun and you even scored a potential future date! Congrats! Hope to hear more about this one.

  2. Simmarah Said:

    Tee hee! I love your night out, sounds like one of mine 🙂 Well, flirty sarcasm and a new man is definitely bringing in the New Year on a good foot! Keep us updated!

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