I have been a bad, bad blogger lately. I had a three-day weekend, went out twice and have started to have some internal issues ... and yet I haven't posted since my last weekend update.
Bad! (I just slapped myself on the wrist with a ruler.)
I have part of this past weekend's update written, but I didn't get to finish. Also, there will be much discussion of my internal struggles, I am sure.
But not right now.
To whet your appetite a bit, I will leave you with the weekend's lamest attempt to pick me up:
Late in the evening (or early in the morning, depending on how you look at it), we end up at a dive-ish bar with a lot of young kids (seriously, they were all 12) and a very, very, very loud band. (More loud than good, natch.)
I go to the bar and order a Miller Lite for my friend (the Birthday Girl) and a Red Stripe for myself. (I was DD, and this was the second beer I'd had since 7 p.m. I sure as hell was NOT having a lame domestic, especially considering that my first beer was a yummy Hoegarden.) Now, I like Red Stripe because it's smooth and it errs on the side of a slight hint of sweetness as opposed to bitterness. (Try it. It's the one in the cute little thick bottle.) Also, it was either Red Stripe, Dos Equis or Negra Modelo. I am not a huge Dos Equis fan and I wasn't in a Negra Modelo mood. So I went with the Red Stripe. (I explained that because it sort of relates to the bad pick up line. Sort of.)
I turn around and hand Birthday Girl her beer. (No friend of mine is to buy drinks of his or her birthday!) I go to cross the bar when I'm stopped by an intoxicated man.
Intoxicated man: (mumble) never seen (mumble) chick drink Red Stripe. S: Wait, what? Intoxicated man: I've never seen a chick drink Red Stripe before. S: Oh. Really? Intoxicated man: Yeah, it's cool. Chicks who drink Red Stripe are cool. S: Yeah, um, it's a good beer. Intoxicated man [motioning Birthday Girl]: Your friend drinks gross beer. S [laughs]: Sort of. Intoxicated man: Red Stripe is smooth. Don't you think Red Stripe is smooth? S [walking off]: That's why I drink it. Intoxicated man: Um, wait ...
What I thought of this:
Call me "chick" again, jerkoff. Um, you just made fun of my good friend, the Birthday Girl. Eeeew.
What I should have said: