Slut-urday

I found out last week that the douchebag that I had recently been dating was, as fate would have it, dating someone else. (Thank you facebook for always revealing to me the unfortunate truth). So Saturday night my roommates and I hit the town with one mission: to meet men. The real reason was to pet our recently bruised egos, and pseudo-celebrate how great it is to not be dating, because dating is the absolute worst. We made our intentions known. And thus, we decreed that Saturday would henceforth be known to us as Slut-urday.


So I was prepared for two things. 1) to shamelessly throw myself on people and 2) to possibly drink till I sounded like Helen Keller. Big goals, I know.

Slut-urday started out well enough, with a car full of girls reinventing the words to “Stand by You” from the Pretenders. I believe my version went…

“I’ll stand by you…I’ll stand by you, even though you bang other girls. I’ll stand by youuuuuu. Though you treat me like crappppp. Won’t let nobody hurt youuuu. Cause I’ll do it myself.”

As girl-power as the night seemed to be though, there were already a few minor glitches...

First glitch of the night: it is very hard to dress for a Slut-urday when it is 20 degrees outside. So, being more disguised than your average floozy, we were going to have to overly compensate with suggestive facial expressions and only our best white-girl dance moves. Hot, I know.

Second glitch: my predominantly gay neighborhood. It was apparent that most the bars in the hood were not appropriate for Slut-urday. Hipster boys can be very deceiving but unless I was Lady Gaga these places were all no-go's.

Final glitch was that we no longer knew where hoards of single men go. We eventually decided that our best bets were places with bad music and a meat-market-like atmosphere. After a bit of hopping we found our spot at a bar with stripper poles in the middle of the dance floor and a Bon Jovi soundtrack.

By night’s end we had all danced, drank and I had exchanged numbers with a very nice civil engineer who had bought me a drink and mentioned dinner, which allowed me to overlook his windbreaker pullover.

I decided that for the first night back in the game this was enough. To consecrate the evening I came home, vomited and slept with all my lights on. Slut-turday was in most respects a success.

I woke up Sunday morning with a missed text from the Civil Engineer saying it was nice meeting me and he hoped he could still talk me into dinner. I have a new bad-ass phone that is far too high tech for me and has a touchscreen that doesn’t appreciate my short nubby fingers. I try to save the guys number and realize that I am accidentally calling him. I immediately hang up. Shit. I try to save the name again, and again I hear ringing.

NOOOOOOOOO!! I hang up again in a panic. Really!?! Could I look any more like a Stage 5 Clinger?? Two creepy hang up calls before eleven AM? I have no choice but to text him lamely explaining the new phone and my inability to save his number properly. I give it one last try and somehow manage to save his number under a random guy’s name from high school.

I was not alone in my “success”. My roommate also received a text. Although hers said “I have this number saved as Tomorrie.” Since her name is in fact, not tomorrie, we’re going to assume this jackass had big plans for her tomorrow. Either way, the two of them pieced together a night that happily ended up alone.

And I did indeed get my dinner date, and another appearance from the windbreaker pullover.

Ugh. Dating sucks.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

One of your funniest posts yet...when are you going to write a damn book already? thanks for keeping me laughing.

Anonymous said...

To good. Tell me where he is and I'll hunt him down. Bill

Bill said...

Ah, the dating game. Sluterday?????Who was the scumbag that dumped you. Obviously he has no taste or socially redeeming values.

Anonymous said...

For the record I was not dumped. The guy was starting a collection of girlfriends. Since I am not an action figure, I removed myself from the equation. And you are correct, no socially redeeming values whatsoever.
-Kelly

Anonymous said...

I heart you! Miss u friend...
xoxox linz

jamers said...

Glitch #4... a Roommate's boyfriend showed up and cramped our style.

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