It’s Friday night and I’m alone in the house. I’m sitting in my big chair with the TV off wondering what I’m going to do with myself until my little one comes back on Sunday from visiting her dad. My adult child is out doing whatever young adults do on Friday nights.
I get a text message from a friend who reminds me that she’s invited me to join her and others for drinks. I’d totally forgotten, but I honestly had no intention of joining them. Going “out” is still new to me. Plus you have to shower, do your hair, makeup… Exhausting!
But I’m sitting in the living room talking to myself. Somewhere in that conversation, I convince myself to go. So I join my friends.
Drinks at a restaurant quickly turn into, “Hey, let’s check out that bar across the street where all the young people are hanging out!” It’s a college bar, but the music’s good and the drinks are cheap. I’m old enough to be the mother of most of the kids in this joint, but the more I drink the less I care and now I feel like dancing!
A very cute (and very young) gentleman approaches me, compliments me and asks me to dance. I accept.
First, let me say… My, things sure have changed on the dance floor!
So this is it, folks. This is where I have the first “dirty dance” of my new single life. Of my entire life – period! It was as if he got to second base. I look around the dance floor and realize this is how it is nowadays. (“All the cool kids are doing it!”)
|No, not this kind of "dirty dancing."|
When I return to my friends, the jokes come fast and furious.
Friend #1:“I think you’re engaged.”
Friend #2: “Or pregnant!”
Friend #3: “At the very least he knows your cup size.”
Fast forward two days…
It’s Sunday night and I’m grocery shopping with the kids. As I reach for a shopping cart, a very cute (and very young) guy pulls out a cart for me and says, “Well, hello…”
The guy from the college bar! The guy I “dirty danced” with last Friday night!
And now I’m with MY kids! At MY grocery store!
He works at MY grocery store! He collects the shopping carts!
OH MY FREAKIN GAWD!
“You have got to be kidding me,” I say to myself.
Great, I’m talking to myself again.
“You’re never going out again,” I reply. “And it’s time to find a new grocery store.”