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I got some good news this afternoon.
If you�ve been reading this for a while, you�ve heard me bitch weekly about my Friday meetings. I have one from 10:30-12, then a second from 12-2:30. They�re both in the same room. I take the minutes for both of them. My Fridays are sheer meeting hell.
Today, I found out that my 12-2:30 meeting is being suspended until September. No more redesign! I don�t have to worry about taking Fridays off. I don�t have to dread my afternoons. I don�t have to wake up in the middle of the night on Thursday and wonder if I ordered lunch. Life is good!
On a less positive topic, my deodorant is only questionably working today. It�s not failing, exactly. I just feel�sticky. TMI? Sorry. It�s my diary. That�s how it goes.
The Boyfriend emailed me a little while ago because his friend Joe had called to see what our plans are for tonight. We didn�t actually have plans for tonight. It�s one of those weird couplehood things, the assumed weekend night plans. Not that I�m saying the assumed weekend night plans are a bad thing, mind you. It�s just weird. In some ways, I�ve ceased to be just me. I�m now the me half of Us. And We apparently have plans with Joe tonight.
I emailed him back and told him that I didn�t recall any plans for this evening, but if Joe was interested in doing something other than hanging out in a bar, I�d be fine with going.
Not for nothing, but my hanging out in bar days are pretty much over. I don�t drink very much (the no-tolerance, throwing-up-when-I-have-two-drinks thing makes that difficult), and I don�t smoke, and I don�t enjoy making chit chatty small talk. Therefore, I don�t enjoy just hanging out in bars.
There used to be this place in Boston on Lansdowne Street called The Dogleg Pub. The Dogleg had an indoor mini golf course inside. AND they served kick-ass sangria. I really liked going there. You could do something other than sit around and drink, or sit around and watch other people drink. At the very least, you could comment on the terrible mini-golf that got played as the night got later and people had more and more rounds of drinks. I liked the Dogleg.
Needless to say, it didn�t last long.
Now, most of the places around offer no diversion from the drinks other than the TV on mute in the corner.
I used to go out all the time, when the Artboy and I were together. There was always some friend�s band playing somewhere, or some new place to try out. I minded less, the standing around with my one drink in my hand, nursing it to make it last through five of the Artboy�s. When we�d go places that the music was playing, it was too loud to worry about having to chat. Besides, (and this is the part that shames me to admit) I�d be so happy to just be included in the Artboy�s plans, I�d just stand for hours given the chance to be out with him, to have him introduce me to someone as his girlfriend. Having him say it made it true, and some days, that was the only proof I had. Of course, more often than not, I�d end up introducing myself.
Enough of that. So anyway�
I�d rather go dancing. Not that I do very often, since the dance places open around my bedtime (hey�I�m old now!), and since most of them play crappy music (perhaps crappy is too harsh a word, since there are obviously a lot of people out there that really like that music. It just does nothing for me), although after one drink I�ll dance to just about anything! But I always have a good time when we go, despite the fact that I�m self-conscious and not a very good dancer. But who cares! It�s fun. And if we go to Axis on Saturday nights, I bring my FNX Card and it�s free! It�s a chance to get a little dressed up and wear my silver Fluevogs and go have a good time!
A few months ago, a whole bunch of the girls went out on a dance night to one of the cheesy Top 40 dance places. My friend Margaret, who has an incredible talent for attracting sleazy men, somehow had this guy stuck to her like a magnet. We�d close in around her and push him away, but he kept coming back. Finally, she leaned over and said to Erica, �Ooh, gross�this guys got a hard on! He keeps rubbing his dick all over my ass!�
Erica suggested a few ways to get rid of him, all of which involved sticking pointy things into various tender parts of his anatomy. Margaret laughed and said, �But I don�t want to piss him off!�
Girls like Margaret are the reason boys behave the way they do in dance clubs.
They�d be funny to watch, if it wasn�t so pathetic. First, they look around the crowd with that hangdog �please just touch my penis� look. They�ll scope out a girl who appears to be unattached and dance over to her general area. Then, they�ll position themselves directly behind her and dance around her, like they�re dancing together, only the girl doesn�t know it. Once she realizes, if she gives him any sort of encouragement, he�ll move in and start the �rubbing my body against your body� dance. If she ignores him, or moves, or shoves him back, he goes back to step one.
Okay, you guys out there, the ones who are shaking your heads and saying, �No way! I do not act like that!� probably don�t go to pick up women in dance clubs. But if you find yourself in one, look around. Watch your fellow man. And when he moves in for the dick-to-ass contact, you�ll see what I mean.
Not that it stops me from going out to go dancing. I think it�s funny. And not all the boys are like that. Some just want to have fun. Some just want to dance. And they�re fun to dance with. No harm, no foul.
The Boyfriend doesn�t like to dance. Or rather, more to the point, the Boyfriend is dangerous to dance around. If you�ve ever seen that Ciderjack commercial where the girls are all on the dance floor by themselves and the guy in jeans and the red bandana comes out and starts flailing uncontrollably like he�s having an epileptic seizure? That�s how the Boyfriend dances. So in a dance club, there�s no room for him, and he ends up not dancing.
It�s too bad. Instead, I end up out with my friends, hoping I can find someone in the crowd who won�t try the Dick Maneuver.
Not sure how I ended up here, talking about the Dick Maneuver. Certainly not what I started out talking about!
Tomorrow, the Boyfriend is house hunting again with the Woman with the Highest Voice in the World. I�ve got baby custody all day (my mom�s friend Judy is in town, and they�re going to the Red Sox game, leaving me in charge of Judy�s one-year-old foster son), but the babe and I may go house hunting along with them. That will be interesting. We�ll see how Betsy deals with that!
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