Hammer-philia

I ended up at the lamest party in the world last night. It was horrible. I had no idea, but it was a "singles" party. Ugh, the kind where it's free for the girls and the guys pay $20 to get in. It took place at a club called Duvet, and yes, there were beds everywhere. I went there with friends of friends. I thought it was just a *regular* costume party, but it was a singles party! Lemme just say, my friends got there at 6pm. Ummmm.... it was waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyy too early! The men were feeling awkward, prowling around for the women. The place was huge, but pretty empty. For some reason, and I don't know why, no one was drinking. My friends, sweet as they are, were also trying to sell candy bars for the charity. I thought, "There's a time and a place for that...." The guys went up to the girls and inquired about the candy bars, but it tapped right into their insecurity. Already, they had paid $20 to get in the door, and they probably feel like girls only like them for their money or whatever. I swear, only 20 minutes had passed but it felt like hours. Still, I stuck it out. I felt like there was *no one* interesting to talk to. I made conversation with a few guys here and there, but I wasn' t interested. They were not interesting. They were trying to size me up by the school I go to or by what I study. I sized them up by the veiled look of desperation in their eyes.
I decided it was time for a 2nd drink after sipping (I could have said "milking" here, but one of our readers doesn't care for the term...) the first one--twelve dollars---yuuuuuuuuck! So I brought one of the shy girls and we meandered to the bar. I must start by saying that I am about 5'10" and with heels I'm 6 feet. Approaching the bar last night, I really stood out. Which is fine. Anyway, we started talked to a miniature man in a suit. He was funny and witty and cute--- a small burst of light in a sea of doldrums. He was flattering my smile and we had the same sense of humor, and, alas, he bought us drinks. Thank goodness. (I'm not alcohol-dependent, but I needed something to pick the loserish party up. The drinks were out of my budget and getting one turned into my personal project for the moment. I felt so triumphant when I succeeeded!) I was actually having a good time talking to the man. Are you ready for this? He was about 4'10", no exaggerations. He was the size of a child and I bent down to talk to him. He asked for my email address. So, I gave. What the hell?
The shy girl and I decided to meander back to our "bed" with our friends. So we sat down I was still feeling pretty horrible about being there. I wanted to make a truthful conversation with someone. Aha! There was Ritchie, a guy who had introduced himself earlier in the evening. "Ritchie!!!!" I said. "This is the strangest party ever. The energy here is so off." (The energy realy was off--- let's just say this. Take a group of people, intent on meeting their match and being open about it. Put them in a highly trendy club with loud music by Madonna, George Michael, and old-school Michael Jackson. Dim the lights, decorate with beds..... A recipe for disaster!)
Well, as I was talking, I felt something wet next to me! NOOOOOOO!...... not my drink.....!!!!!!! Yes, folks. The one dangerous thing about beds is that you really can't safely place a drink on them. And nevermind Shy-girl's big butt pushing it over..... Sorry. My one hope was dashed. I complained more to this Ritchie fellow, who took that as his cue to lean into me and rub my back. But he did not rescue me with another drink. He did not entertain me like the other guy. Clearly the Mini-man was the best chance there for fun. "I must find him," I thought. I wrote my email down on a paper and weaved back through the crowds. I found the little guy holding court to a group. I gave him the paper and walked away, back to my bed with Ritchie and the girls. Nature called so I went down to the bathrooms. Strange set-up down there. First of all, they were unisex. There was a spread on the counter with towels, candies, gum, cotton balls, hair gel, etc etc. And there was a dude there to offer a hand towel, also a big tip jar. As I was washing my hands, so was Mini-man!! Yaaaay! "It's like we're already married," he said. He was so cute I just wanted to lift him up and take him back upstairs. But I didn't. I told him about the horrible drink tragedy. "Let me get you another one!" he retorted. "Really! It's my pleasure."
Well, before the drink we sat down on the bed and talked. Likeable guy, seems to come from a whole lot of money. His parents, he said, traveled the whole world, to every single country. Geez. Strange. He asked about my work, and then he said, "So are we going to have to travel for your research at some point?" (As if we were already married...) Anyways, he started to tell me how romantic he is and how he really likes to look out for women. Also, first, he battled the crowd at the bar to get me a drink. This was a strong drink! Enough to make me drunk for the rest of the night. Anyway, Mini-man is really cool, and I felt like he deserved the attention for it. However, I think I must rule out the possibility of ever dating him, which is what he wants. I imagined the prospect of coupling off with him. In my mind, we would look a little like this:











Anyway, we chatted as I finished up my drink. It was time for me to go, because my friend Sissy had already left and we were heading to Duplex to see her friend perform. I gathered my belongings, and on the way out, I noticed Mini-man propped up on a barstool. I kissed him on the lips and went on my way. When I got home, he had sent the following email:









Wow, Mini-man was serious about going on a date. Well, I have a bit of a dilemma. Now's your big chance! I want to hear your opinions on the situation.

Disclaimer-- I may sound a bit "salty" in this posting. It's only for fun!