Last weekend I went to a bar.
For me, this was quite an outing. Because I don’t like music or bars or people or standing for long periods of time.
But it was Jeff and Meredith’s birthday, so I put on my big girl panties and went out to paint the town. Or at least daub it with a smidge of pink.
And I’m glad I went, because I met a man.
I’ll call him Darnell.
(Because that was his name.)
We were talking about our interests and I ended saying “not much, I’m pretty boring.” The conversation continued, until a few minutes later when Darnell said “wow, you are pretty boring.”
Later in the conversation, after apparently deciding he could suffer through my boring personality, Darnell suggested “I can come home with you and make you eggs in the morning.”
“I don’t think my parents would like that,” I replied, having already told him I live at home with my mom and dad.
Darnell quickly countered, “But I’ll be making eggs…”
“Well, they do like eggs.”
Sadly my parents were not afforded the chance to try Darnell’s eggs.
So let’s not tell them about the missed opportunity, okay?
Bars are Fun…no, wait.
