After seven and one half hours of talking about “team dynamics” in a room with one or more very hostile persons yesterday, I was finally set free into the city for happy hour with a group of girlfriends of mine. To say I was ready to drink is an understatement.
Thankfully, I was greeted with a lovely glass of happy hour wine, plates of bruschetta, hummus and calamari, and laughter in fours at The Zig Zag. I met this particular group of girlfriends through their significant others, actually—a group of guys I partied with a lot the summer after my senior year of college when I lived on an air mattress on the floor of a best friend’s apartment in Fremont. I’ve been so lucky to forge and maintain a friendship with the three of their girlfriends (one now a wife)—all very beautiful, intelligent and funny women—the best kind to be surrounded by.
Boy was I glad they were there for me yesterday. If there is anything that will get you out of a funk, it is glasses and glasses of wine, laughter, and ‘boys and sex’ talk. Those three things, in any particular order, will turn a sour mood around for me anytime.
After our end-of-happy-hour, back-up beverages, we walked, quite buzzed, up to Kell’s to visit a bartending friend. When we walked in, we had our own personal bar—Joe to pour us drinks and not a sole there besides a few twosomes in the dining side. As the wine buzz increased, so did the sex talk. What can I say, us women, we’re crazy about the sex talk when we get in a group. (At least most of my girl friends are). In the middle of details from a friend about a story that I’ll refer to as “Dirty Massage Parlor,” I saw a guy behind me, shaking his head at us in disbelief. Ever had the realization that you’re talking REALLY LOUD and while you thought you were INVISIBLE, you’re actually being listened to by an ENTIRE ROOM full of people? Yep, that was us. I looked around and realized that there were more than one or two men in ear shot to our dirty secrets. Somewhere between the next-to-last glass of wine and the last, our inside voices were no longer in effect, and the room had filled up with boys—tons of them—watching the Monday night football game.
Whoopsie.
Note to self: Pick bar without sports TVs for drunken sex talk.
Currently Feeling: A bit queasy. I hope I don’t have a stomach virus coming on!
Currently Anticipating: A night in with dinner and my boy toy.
Currently Wanting: To throw a holiday cocktail wine party. I think I’ll send out the invite this week.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
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2 comments:
Oh wow, that's hilarious. I guess I was more drunk than I thought because it didn't occur to me at all that people (including Joe!) might have been listening to our conversation! Good times though.
It didn't occur to me either - don't worry. I think we were only interested in hearing ALL the details! ;)
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