Attention Guys Who Attempt to Hit on Me In Bars:
1. I have no problem with you hitting on me even though you’re ten years older than me. However. Please refrain from constantly saying “ah, you’re young, you’ve got time,” because if I’m old enough to be hit on by you, I’m certainly old enough to know better.
2. Please don’t mention you’re “seeing” a Romanian woman and contemplating marriage so she can get her greencard.
3. Especially if you then ask for my email. Now I’m thinking “What—don’t want my phone number in case your girlfriend looks at your phone records?”
4. Just because you paid for my beer when my back was turned doesn’t mean you “bought me a drink” and it certainly doesn’t mean I’m going to give you my email.
5. Yes—I was chatting with that handsome musician who has such lovely curly hair. Stop trying to buy my attention back by putting Queen on the jukebox.
6. And by the way—the song is called “Hammer to Fall” not “Hammers Fall.” Thank you.
Last night was a surprise birthday party for my friend Lennie. Her husband had arranged for a group of friends to meet at a sushi bar and then go to a show around the corner. I love sushi, and I love Lennie, so I painted her a picture of her cat, put on a clean shirt and went out for dinner. The restaurant—Ugayi Ya—was fantastic. Really, just the best sushi I’d ever had. The group was mostly Lennie’s fantastic theatre friends, so I was feeling a little out of my league, especially when I was talking about The Plan—but then I mentioned a new theatre in Green Bay that I was keen to look up when I went back.
Imagine my surprise when we got to the theatre and I discovered the show was being put on by the very theatre company I was chatting up. Venture Theatre is an independent theatre company in DePere, and after the show I introduced myself to the producer. Hopefully, in the future they’ll have some space for me to help out. It’s good to have a connexion like that before I even go back. The show was called “Get Down(sized)!” and it was about the daily struggles of office politics…and it’s quite accurate and very funny. I highly recommend it.
Afterward I went out for a pint and was accosted by a guy who attempted to impress me with tales of hanging lights for Aerosmith before revealing he was a mechanical engineer. Dear God, no more engineers, please.
Today I’m feeling quite empowered. The flapper-dapper arm broke on our toilet, so I went to the hardware store and bought a replacement, then replaced it all under my own steam—no man required—and just to ensure my continued empowerment, I found a copy of “Our Bodies, Ourselves” at the local thrift shop for a dollar. A DOLLAR! Score! Lest you think I’m becoming too manly however, I also found a pair of Mario Lanza CDs (also a dollar) that are currently making me quite swoon-y and causing images of roses and Naples to float through my head.
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