My night with Claire

A couple of weeks into my most recent Poodle detox, one of my friends who occasionally sifts through my blog had read about my recent heartbreak and offered to take me out for a drink. I wasn’t in the mood to get dressed and leave my my warm home which had basically become my cocoon at that point…. But I had recently discovered that I was bilingual. As it turns out, not only am I fluent in English, but I am also fluent in Two-aneese which is the ridiculous babble my (now) three year old daughter and two year old nephew speak to each other. I had come to realize I completely understood it and that was embarrassing. After realizing that my main social interactions were predominantly with two year olds and I didn’t have my kids that particular evening, I couldn’t think of any excuse as to why I shouldn’t go out and have a little adult interaction.

My friend and I wound up at a relatively small bar that I had never been to. This particular bar had a full parking lot and more importantly, it was close to my house. My friend and I walked in and started working the room and talking to the people who were there. My friend, who although I love him dearly, is a complete pig, so of course he latched on to the first single lady he could find at the bar. Her name was Claire. Claire was sitting at the end of the bar all alone and she was pretty drunk all by the early hour of 7:30pm. Claire was also at least 30 years older than my friend. After chatting for a while, Claire made a comment that she originally thought that my friend and I were a couple. As soon as my friend heard that, he immediately crawled up and stood on top of his bar stool and yelled to the entire bar that he and I were just friends, not a couple, and that I was single and on the prowl. Although I greatly appreciated his attempts to not cock block me that evening, I was still completely mortified by his public proclamation. No one paid much attention to my friend, but I did notice a group of four guys mosey on over from the other side of the bar to a table closer to Claire, my friend, and I after his humiliating announcement. My friend and I continued chatting with Claire. She was such a hot mess that I couldn’t help but laugh the entire time. It seemed like anything I said offended her. My friend was relentless in his attempts to pick Claire up. At first she was a little cold towards us because she thought that my friend was mocking her since he was good looking and so much younger than her, but once she realized he was actually kind of into her, she became bashful and it became clear that I was a nuisance to her. I’m all for a good threesome, but not with my pig-ass friend and a woman 30+ years my senior who yelled at me every single time I spoke. I excused myself from my friend and Claire’s conversation and I went over to dance by myself in the corner. They were playing great music that night at that bar. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that in Claire’s drunken stupor, she was screaming song requests at the bartender all.evening.long. I actually felt sorry for the bartender, but she was awesome and more than patient and accommodating with Claire’s drunk requests. I will go back to that bar specifically to see that sweet bartender.

As I danced alone in the corner without a care in the world, I noticed I was being summoned over to the table of four men that had migrated over to our side of the bar earlier when my friend had made his very loud Public Service Announcement on his chair about us not being a couple. I was nervous which isn’t an emotion I feel very often. However, all four of these men were very attractive and well dressed so I did what any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular woman would do and I turned my back to them and pretended I didn’t see them attempting to wave me over while I continued to dance alone in the corner. Besides, at this point in the evening I was approximtely four beers, three green tea shots, two fireball shots, and a partridge in a pear tree deep, so as you can imagine, my mind was a little bit foggy and I wasn’t sure I was capable of holding an adult conversation. However, it’s quite remarkable how quickly you can pull yourself together when a table of four attractive, well dressed men grab your hand, pull up a chair, and sit you down to talk. We started with small talk. You know… names, ages, location, occupation etc. Come to find out, not only were these men well dressed, attractive, and not Las Vegas locals, but they were all ridiculously educated with prestigious careers as well. Two of the men had graduated from Stanford, one man had graduated from Harvard, and the other man had graduated from Princeton. To top it off, they were all so funny and very kind to me. It’s not very often that I feel in over my head around men, but at that moment, I was feeling WAY in over my head. Even though I was already pretty drunk, I did what any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular woman would do and I ordered another beer since I was feeling so in over my head. *shrugs* In all fairness, they were all drunk too so I don’t think they really noticed.

It’s a good thing I’m a little bit funny sometimes because my wit and humor were the only two things I had going for me against this tough and highly educated crowd.

I had an amazing time chatting with the Aerospace Engineers, Pediatric Neurological Surgeon, and Trial Attorney from the Pacific Northwest. Yeah… that’s right. You read that correctly. Are you starting to see how this little blonde bobble head was feeling ridiculously out of her intelligence league? Even though I could not even begin to comprehend their level of intelligence, they were very down to earth and I had a blast getting to know them. I ended up spending the majority of the evening talking to the trial attorney. He was divorced, no children, not too far from my age, and really cute.

Since these gentlemen were staying on the strip, after a couple of hours they decided to head back to that side of town. They invited me to go with them, but I didn’t know them, I was drunk, and I was tired. Before he left, the attorney gave me a hug and asked for my phone number. I shrugged, gave it to him, and they disappeared. My friend (who was my DD that evening) told me he was going home with Claire so I rolled my eyes and called myself an Uber. It was way past my bedtime anyway.

I got home, grabbed a pack of fruit snacks and a bottle of water, and threw myself onto bed. As I ate my fruit snacks and scrolled through social media, I realized something. For the first time in 4 1/2 years I was drunk and I had absolutely no desire to drunk text Poodle. In fact, up until that moment, I hadn’t even thought about him all night. It had been easy to resist my drug of choice, Poodle, when I’m sober but the fact that even at my drunkest when my drunk alter ego Snooks had taken over, I forgot about him and had no desire to contact him. That was a feeling I had been waiting for for years. That revelation felt really good.

As I continued scrolling through social media, a text message popped up from the attorney asking if I was still at the bar and if I were still there, he would like to take a taxi back over to my side of town to meet me because his friends were going to a nightclub and that wasn’t really his scene.

I thought about it.

I thought about it long and hard.

I could have easily called an Uber and been back at that bar in ten minutes flat. I had a great time with him and I definitely could have made a lot of questionable decisions that evening… but I opted against it and I didn’t respond to his text message. I washed my face, threw on my pajamas, and I tucked myself into bed. Alone.

The next morning when I woke up, I was recalling the events from the previous evening. I couldn’t help but wonder if I made the right decision by ignoring the trial attorneys text message the night before. What if he was my soulmate and I blew him off for no reason except that I was lazy and fully invested in my fruit snacks? Was I self sabotaging AGAIN?!?!

However, I looked at my phone and saw a missed text from him at 2:00am and then another at 2:30am and then another at 3:00am and then another at 3:30am and then another at 4:00am and then another at 4:30am. Suddenly,  I felt ridiculously good about my decision to rendezvous with Mr. Sandman and a pack of fruit snacks as opposed to the trial attorney from the Pacific Northwest.

I still haven’t replied to any of his text messages to this day.

I’m sure you’re curious as to what happened between my friend and Claire. I still don’t know and honestly, I don’t want to. lol All I know is that our night with Claire was the best night I had in a while. I paid for that night with a week long hangover because I’m in my 30’s and I just can’t recover like I used to, but it was all totally worth it… even if it meant surrendering my possible soulmate over a pack of fruit snacks.



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