ExposedNYC

Some might say that Santa was good to me this holiday season, parading men across my path to distract me from the Boy Toy, but I prefer to believe in karma, to which I fully attribute the following story.

Following the Giants/Patriots game Jodie, Cali and I realized that, it being early evening and a couple pitchers in, our night had only just begun. Glancing around at the beer bellies and cheese fried stains spilling down the front of the die hard fans surrounding us (typical of the best game viewing in town), a change of venue necessitated our short stumble to a nearby bar.

We were joined shortly by Troy and two of his friends- we’ll call them McLovin and McLeavin, just for the story’s sake. Within the hour they talked us into the short ride to McLovin’s house and, knowing that he and Cali had a brief fling on a previous trip, I played the dutiful wing woman and tagged along.

By the time we got there, Troy was puking out the side of the car, so Jodi dropped us off with a wave and a grimace, and then there were four. We entered the epitome of a bachelor pad- complete with a projection screen television to match the expanse of space throughout the rest of the room lacking any furniture. There was a couch so, reverting to grammar school code, we settled in to “watch a movie” while I made my best attempts at mental telepathy to ask Cali her intentions for the evening.

When McLeavin stood up about thirty minutes into Transformers and announced that he had a long ride home in front of him, I found myself the last obstacle to my friend’s super bad desires. Playing off our earlier conversation of asking for help constructing the perfect text message (and conveniently ALWAYS having my phone in one hand if cocktails grace the other), I composed a draft saying, “Should I ‘go to the bathroom’ and disappear?” and then asking for her approval before sending. She glanced at me, clearly momentarily annoyed at my inappropriate timing until she processed the glow of the screen. “That looks great. You should definitely send it,” she replied with a grin before curling back into McLovin’s outstretched arm.

I let enough time pass to avoid being blatantly obvious before grabbing my purse and asking for directions to the restroom, which I had absolutely no intention of listening to. The flaw to my brilliant plan was that I was now left alone, with no car, walking through residential streets in heels. Luckily, I grew up in a neighborhood where the worst crime I expected to stumble across was the TP’ing of an unfortunate lawn.

I’ll leave my tale strolling under the streetlights for now, recognizing the diminished amount of time that can be allotted to any given blog post. I understand that you’re either at work, avoiding work, or are still processing the overuse of McReferences, so tune in tomorrow to discover my reward for the selfless promotion of a fellow single sister getting some action.

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