It is Friday night. Imagine, I have single handedly killed an IMO's pizza and I am in my pants – the stretchy ones that are reserved for special bouts of gluttony and exhaustion.
I was supposed to be attending a girls night out with a group in Kansas but when the host bailed I decided it was acceptable for me to morph into a sloth and do nothing but watch crap TV on Hulu.
Meagan disagreed. I think it is quite possible that only she could have stripped me of my pants at that moment. She bribed me by offering to drive downtown and pick me up.
We decided to go to JP's, a wine bar that gets far too much of my money and where I could have easily worn my pants under the cloak of dim amber lighting.
I opted instead to squeeze into jeans, though I thought better of it as I perched myself at the high top quite aware of the hip chub spillage.
Meagan ordered a meal far healthier than the pizza I devoured and we split a bottle of wine. Even the thought of taking a bite of her hummus made me want to gag. I had far exceeded my intake limit for the evening.
We sat there in the dark for the better part of the evening, talking about life and love – or rather the absence of it, about my poor posture and the wrongs of the health care system.
We whispered each time creepy guy waiter, lingered far too long and far too close as he poured our Malbec. I swear he serves me every time I go there and every time I leave I have expect to find a note made out of cut out letters from magazines to be shoved in my purse with an ominous threat that soon he will be coming to get me.
Meagan and I talked about the tiers of friendship.
"You're tier two – no, offense," she said.
"None taken."
It is much funnier coming from her.
I love that we share a common understanding that relationships take time to develop and become fully realized. Just because you like someone doesn't mean you are going to automatically go out and get BFFs for Life tattooed to your buttocks. Still I like her quite a bit and any woman who could get me out of my pants definitely has a shot to move past tier two.
2 comments:
I have my stretchy pants on right now... but I have to say.. only my bff could get me out of them at this point. lol
"Just because you like someone doesn't mean you are going to automatically go out and get BFFs for Life tattooed to your buttocks"
Well that's just GREAT! I could have used this information two weeks ago!
Post a Comment