The Best Intentions

As I write this, the sun is rising and the air outside my apartment is getting hotter. I have a 17-mile run which I must complete per my marathon training course. I will, but at the moment I am hung-over. I am drinking water, preparing for my battle with the Chicago humidity. Well......how did I get here?

I truly had the best intentions. My plan was to go home, lift weights and go to bed at around 10:00, at the latest. Maybe a post-work beer or two. I had also promised Christy that I'd call her around 8:00.

Princess Xena, one of my co-workers (so named because whenever she gets drunk, and it apparently doesn't take much, she emits a screeching "Princess Xena" yell. Fun.) finished her graduate degree requirements and asked us to join her for drinks at a downtown dive. It's good form to make a showing in a situation like that, if only for a beer or two.

Whose idea was it to buy the first round of shots??? To this, Dear Reader, I plead guilty as charged.

Except for me and Skippy, a guy in the computers side, our group was entirely composed of women. Some from work, but many outsiders. Skippy was taking some ribbing from the girls:

"Skippy, if you're going to wear a shirt like that, you better go the gym and work out."

Skippy was wearing a polo shirt, complete with horse and rider.

"Skippy, you need to get a shirt like David wears. This guy knows how to dress."

Fashion validation!! At last!!

Since there were so many women, I decided to try some of the conversational routines I've been testing, to see which ones held the attention of the group and which did not. I talked about astrology, relationship issues, dating ethics and was soon the center of attention.

I was apparently the center of Princess Xena's attention, as well.

I felt her arm around my shoulder, her breasts against my chest and her hot breath on my neck.

"You're really cool, David. We've never talked before, but you're really cool." She planted a kiss that landed just west of my mouth.

It was not my intention to make out with Princess Xena. For one thing, she's a co-worker. Most important, however, she's really not my type. I didn't move away, of course---I just acted cool. A few more drinks and she would probably be flirting with the guy who buses tables.

On my right was a woman of Filipino descent, Carla. On my left was an African American woman, Marla. They were both attractive and fun. I looked at my watch---it looked as if Christy was not going to get her call. C'est dommage. I felt hands running along my back. It was Princess Xena again. Then, I heard the Princes Xena yell......

"Woowoowoowoowooowoowoowoo!!!"

Everyone turned in our direction.

I turned my attention to Marla, the woman on my left. She was from southern New Jersey originally with time spent in California. She was getting ready for a trip to Greece, she goes to Europe every year and has several friends on the continent, and our conversation turned to travel. She gave me some gum and asked if I had had onions for lunch.

She negged me!

I admitted that, yes, I had eaten Lebanese.

I should add that Marla is one of the women who "gets" men.

We made plans to get together for one of Chicago's many festivals---I gave her my number and she texted me right away, so that tricky part was over. It was, however, getting late and, as we were all drinking on empty stomachs, it was decided that we should get some food. Everyone remaining piled into one cab, Princess Xena and her court, while Marla and I hailed another. We, gave the group the slip and went somewhere else.

"Looks like Princess Xena was hitting on you."

Nothing raises your male value quite like being desired by someone else in the gourp.

We went to a pub/restaurant in Old Town and I began to feel the effects of the alcohol. I can handle my liquor pretty well, but my coordination was lacking. Marla commented on this after I got back from the bathroom. We were laughing and the mood was light.

After we finished, I explained that I had to get up for a run tomorrow and I hailed a cab. We kissed goodnight and I barely got my clothes off before collapsing on the bed.

Which brings me to the present. I have 17 miles ahead of me. My head is not throbbing so much now. I must get going.....