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Saturday, September 18, 2004

hungover? kind of.

Woke up with a slightly throbbing head and a pale complexion. Ah, the joys of drinking. I was pacing around restless last night, not wanting to go out because I have work today. But when I got a message from my boss saying to come in an hour later, I took it as a sign, broke out the heels and blush, and got ready to go out.

I love quiet nights in, but sometimes I just need to get out; I go crazy if I don't. I end up pacing the hallways and checking my email every five minutes. Oh it's ugly.

It was 50's pub night at a diner up the road. I put in my best effort with capri pants and pump heels. After slamming down consecutive shots of mango Malibu rum (it tasted like candy), I was on the same brain wave as most people on my floor. A tall girl with brown hair and short miniskirt was yelling "I thought I only had four beers! But I had my sixth! We have to go now!"

At the diner I hit the dance floor where I spent most of the night. All the classic rap and hip hop songs blasted. Part of me was hoping for 50's music, as it was a 50's night, but I l have no objection to hip hop. My best dance partner was a black man with fancy footwork. He kept asking me where I got my rhythm: "white girls don't have that kind of rhythm". He said we should do dance contest together. I laughed it off and headed out soon after.

On the way home I had a slightly sketchy experience. A man in a Porsche drove by me, slowed down, and pulled over to the curb. As I walked by he oggled me with his eyes. Did he think I was a prostitute? God, I hope not. I thought I looked more kitschy than slutty. I marched on unintimidated by my visual violation; he drove by slowly and gave me a little wave. I didn't see him again. I didn't know how to take it.

Now I'm going to drink a gallon of water and shower for work. Blahh.

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