Happy Holidays to all of you my beloved readers! I’m no longer bitching about being single for the holidays. I’m in the spirit. Ho ho ho! Let it snow! Jingle those bells! I do love Frosty the Snowman too!
My girls and I decided to finally meet up for a girls night out. I don’t know how all of your calendars look… but ours are all jammed with work, family, significant others, and all that other random crap that gets in the way of fun. So we finally all agreed on one night. It truly is the holiday season. Santa granted my wish. I was good. See what happens when Santa thinks your good. Okay, well all of you know I have a penchant to be a bit naughty… But Santa doesn’t know that. Shhh!
We all got dressed up. I’m just saying we looked fabulous. It was fucking freezing. But we all wore cute short dresses, heels or boots, evening makeup, and the good hair. To all of my female readers y’all know what I’m talking about. It takes HOURS to look that good.
Everyone has a buddy when we go out. Okay drinking happens, your buddy is responsible for you and vice versa. Dinner is wrapping up, 7 bottles of wine later. Our waiter loved us… We all were a smidge fuzzy. But still able to walk in heels. As we were walking to the next establishment, we received cat calls from youngins’ on the street. One of my girls stopped to chat. Half of the gang has walked on. I’ve still got my buddy. We circle back to grab our chatty friend. No woman left behind.
The youngins’ start trying to sweet talk us. I’m rolling my eyes. I’m cold and want to meet the other girls for the next drink. The baby who’s hitting on me is trying WAY too hard. I asked him how old he was. He replied, “Old enough to handle anything you throw at me.”
Inner Monologue Moment: Anything, huh. Anything is not a good option to give. But what the hell I’m gonna give this youngin’ a run for his money.
I look him dead in the eye. I point to his pants, then say DROP THEM. He within two seconds of me giving him the challenge, unbuttoned his pants and dropped them!
Inner Monologue Moment: Holy shit! I didn’t actually expect him to do that. It’s fucking freezing. And he has on NO UNDERWEAR…
I’m flabbergasted temporarily. He then proceeds to pick up his junk to display his goods. Oh goodness, this is definitely illegal. Indecent exposure anyone?
I grab the girls, tell them get their shit together, we are leaving. As we are walking away I turn, look over my shoulder, and say, “It was really great to meet you, good luck to your future girlfriend or not.” Then waved and walked off.
Just another night downtown, right?
The evening has ended, well technically it’s early morning. I’ve lost two from the group. They’ve got their buddy they’re good. I’ve temporarily forgotten where I parked my vehicle. It’s okay that’s what uber is for.
One of the girls remembers where her car is. But she doesn’t feel like she can drive. She not drunken-drunk. But she’s not up for driving. I’m past tipsy. But not that far gone. It’s not my baby. I volunteer to drive.
She’s got a compact car. It’s supposed to fit three people. It’s five of us in this tiny vehicle. It starts to rain, of course. I’m not familiar with this vehicle. So now I’ve gotta figure out how to work the lights, windshield wipers, etc. It’s not raining hard enough that I can’t see. So I head out. Then it starts to fucking downpour. I don’t know which button to press for the wipers. I might have run a red light. But there was no camera. No camera, no proof, no red light run.
Then pretty blue lights pop on behind me. So much for no proof. FUCK! By the way everyone in the car is sleeping at this point. I’ve parked in the middle of the median. Because I didn’t know where to park, it’s hard to see with the rain. I know, great choice Bunny right?
He flashes the light in the back seat as he’s walking up to the car. I roll down the window. I’ve decided to be really nice. I’m not going to lie. Except about the drinking. I tell him that I’m sorry, this isn’t my car. I’m trying to figure it out as I go. I need to get my friends home. I’m the DD. I’m just trying to figure all this out. I’m going on and on to the police officer. I’m trying to talk my way out of this. Now that I look back on it, that was probably a red flag to the officer standing in the pouring rain listening to me.
He hasn’t smiled, or said a word. He waits til I finish my tirade and says, “License and registration.”
Inner Monologue Moment: FUCK!! So much for that brilliant fucking plan.
He’s gone for twenty minutes with my license and her registration. All the worst case scenarios are running thru my mind. Who will answer their phone at 4am? Who has enough money in their account to bail me out of jail? Will I get to keep my Manolos on in the holding cell? Because I might need them as a weapon. Stilettos can be a girls best friend if she needs to protect herself. Who’s going to pick up my car? My baby can’t stay downtown too long without me. My dad is going to fucking kill me if I get a DUI. Fuck, there’s no way to make this shit funny for a Facebook post.
Was that last bottle of wine really worth it? Yes, it was.
As I continue my train of thought the officer comes back. He hands me everything. He doesn’t have his clipboard. He says he’s really embarrassed. He can’t write me a ticket because he can’t find his pen.
Inner Monologue Moment: Yes!!!!!! I’m home free! Santa really does think I’m good! I’m going to have to swing by the mall and bring him a Starbucks.
As I’m smiling to the officer, I hear movement in the back. My girlfriend has woken up. The one who owns the tiny vehicle I’m driving. She screams out, “I’ve got a pen!”
Inner Monologue Moment: FUCK MY LIFE! FUCK, FUCK and fuck the Starbucks Santa was going to get. He doesn’t deserve it anymore. I’ll never see Starbucks again! I’ll be in jail. Without my Manolos!
Lyric: “Santa baby, and hurry down my chimney tonight”