Survey says: Penny has been watching too much Merlin on Netflix.
So, here’s the weird coincidence.
I live in one of the most populous counties in the country and very rarely run into people I know when I’m out and about running errands, much less beautiful men I’ve never met but contemplated meeting seven ways to Sunday. The statistical likelihood has got to be infinitesimal.
So, gentle readers, explain to me how I managed to spot Gym God going into Bed, Bath & Beyond as I was driving away from the DSW next door last night.
The worst part? I decided that since I didn’t have a reason to go into the store, it would be a little too much like stalking to go in and… browse the merchandise.
BUT I DID HAVE A REASON TO GO IN AND I FORGOT.
So maybe it wasn’t fate, after all. Because if it had been fate, I would have remembered that I need a new top for my Tervis since the old one cracked.
Bar-bar did have a surprisingly good Sauvignon Blanc. I will remember this.
Drunk me never fails to mystify sober me. (Do drunk selves ever make sense to sober selves?)
A quick snapshot of things drunk Penny did/said Friday night, with commentary:
- “I just want a boy to tell me I’m pretty.” (To be fair, sober me also said this.)
- Encouraged Strapping Marine to buy me drinks. (Hey, even sober me is all about the free things.)
- Allowed said Marine to introduce me as his wife to some random chick at the bar. Why he felt the need to do this, I am a tad unclear. (While amused that a 28-year-old Marine would feel the need to hide behind my figurative skirts, sober me would have definitely taken this, along with the repeated offers to visit him in his city alllllll the way across the country, as a RED FLAG.)
- Refused another beer and asked for a pint of water (GO DRUNK ME!); was talked into a shot of whisky 15 minutes later (peer pressure is a bitch).
- Allowed Strapping Marine to pick me up outside the bar; proceeded to make out with my legs wrapped around his waist. (What can I say? I am a sucker for tall, strong men being tall and strong. Blame the romance novels/the patriarchy/alcohol.)
- Wisely refused Strapping Marine and friend’s offer to help us find our way home, hailed a cab and was home by 12:30. (GO DRUNK ME!)
- Folded and put away my scarf. (Awesome.)
- Left jeans and shirt on the floor, next to the hamper; socks made it in. (Still, mostly a fail.)
- Washed face (well done!) but didn’t brush teeth? (Grosssssssssssss.)
- Charged phone (verrrrrrrrrra nice) but didn’t set alarm? (Thank goodness the furniture delivery men called BEFORE they showed up at 7 am is all I can say.)
The only conclusion I can draw from this is that drunk me is not nearly so feminist (or logical) as sober me. Because sober me would never have been okay with Strapping Marine’s blatant macho maneuvers and conversation (grabbing my ass in combination with the patronizing nickname “Girly” would earn him a scathing set-down from sober Penny).
But damn, drunk me had a good time Friday night. Continue reading