Nast. I just got a phone call
at my work from an old dude that I generously, drunkenly shared a cab with the other night (no worries, there were 4 of us, we were safe).
When I say old dude, I'm talking seventies.
Anyhoo-- he asked me to go to a "nightclub opening" this Saturday -- adding "you know, the one we talked about." No, sir, I was five glasses of wine & champagne deep. I do not recall this nightclub.
Confused and slightly incredulous, I was able to politely decline, citing a birthday party
and a Halloween party this Saturday. So he says, "well, then I'd like to take you for a drink after work next week."
At this point, it's dawning on me that this is no veiled job offer, no attempt at a pseudo grandfather-granddaughter relationship, but a bona fide DATE from a MAN IN HIS SEVENTIES. Gross!!
First of all, what dude with a "new hip" (as he told me on the phone) is shaking his thang at nighclubs with gals less than half his age?
I'll tell you. A known May-December relationship dude who apparently likes the younger flesh. And, I hear, he is a drug supplier.
Time to go vom. Then play with My Little Ponies.
Last night may have been a dreary night, but it turned out quite nicely, thanks to a cozy meal and a delicious glass of wine at Standard Tap.
A few weeks ago, I accompanied the hubby to a Dick's Sporting Goods to look at some golf stuff when low & behold I had an epiphany that I too, should take up the sport of golfing. The picture above helped to convince me that golf is the sport for me & anything purple is meant to be bought by me. Those clubs are the most beautiful sports equipment that I have ever seen. This picture doesn't do it any justice, but if you could see it up close, you would see that the bag is made of an adorable pink & purple paisley print. It's so friggin' pretty & not at all the image that I would have for anything female golfing - related. Next, I saw cute purple Ecco shoes to match the bag. Then, I saw apparel that matched the shoes. Best part, the skirt isn't so short that I look like a squat lesbian. Don't even get me started on the various shades of pink for foam practice balls, putts, glove & wipey thingies.
When I was little, I wanted a sister more than anything in the world. I prayed to Mary. (Mommom said, "If you want something, pray to Jesus. If you really want something, pray to Mary, his mother.") I wrote to Santa. I lied to my class, teacher and principal when I was jealous of a kindergarten classmate whose mother was pregnant. Finally when I was seven, my wish came true...or did it?
As many/all of you know, I have recently acquired some prime real estate in the Rittenhouse area. Yes, I rent a studio apartment. When I moved in, there were a number of things that needed to be fixed. Of the 20-item punch list I typed up, the most important request was a new bathroom floor. After calling every day at 8:00 a.m. for three weeks, I finally got it. Angelo, my maintenance connoisseur, gave me the prettiest, pinkest floor he could find. The white linoleum floor literally sparkles (the flecks do at least) and features pink roses in the middle of every tile. There is not one pink item in my apartment, nor is there a flower. But, girl want new floor, girl get new floor. Thanks, Ang.
