Teenage Dream

Everybody adds most of their high school classmates on Facebook. In order, well, to save...face. Unless it was someone you totally couldn't stand in high school, you add them now, as a friend, because, after all, we're all adults now.

In the middle of the night, I got a drunken txt from Exhibit A.

"I'm so glad yer my frennnd," it read.

Now. Exhibit A was a star athlete in high school, and a year younger than me. A year? Two? Hard tellin', I was a cheerleader, and dated older guys or long-distance guys. Younger guys existed to carry my stuff and worship me as a love goddess. They even wrote it on my car in shaving cream once. No lie.

The next day, another txt. He asked me to meet him for a drink downtown. I was in the middle of a crafty marathon weekend, during which I hot glue everything in my apartment together while watching TLC and HGTV, and hope it looks good. Sure, yes. I don't see why not. Meeting a fellow Cardinal for a drink? I'm a grownup. So I went.

He was already still drunk. Bad form. As soon as he hugged me, I sat down in the booth.

"Are you still as picky as you were in high school?" he asked.

"Probably moreso."

He stared at me, and began offering me the life of a landscaper's wife in Arizona. I hadn't said two words yet, so I thought this was quite the convo off-shoot. After about a half hour of listening to him ramble on and on, and not sure if he was seeing me with his half-open eyes, I told him I couldn't date him, and I'd call him by his first name, but that's the name of my ex-husband, and God makes men named Erick just to punish me.

He said that wasn't the name I'd be screaming by the end of the night. It was time to go. As I bid him adieu and turned to go, he grabbed me by my favorite shirt and TORE IT. In the middle of a quiet section of Broadway, with a wedding going on at the AMVETS.

Guess who's never seein' me again?

Am I still picky?

The Power of Two

I was having coffee with a friend one morning, and I looked up at the door of the shoppe. I noted its address is 222.

I told her I've been seeing THAT NUMBER everywhere, and I'm starting to feel like Jim Carrey over it. Her explanation was that due to my last couple of miserable relationship years, and being so blocked to the idea of a real relationship, I am now open to the idea of The Power of Two. A healthy, adult relationship. And I should be on the lookout.

Well, that didn't really improve my current situation, but it did serve to make me notice 222 more often. I don't even think I'm seeking it out. My change will be dropped into my hand: $2.22.

I'll be helping a customer, and his birthdate is 2/2/1922.

I see DEA 222 on license plates. It's maddening. And all ya can do it laugh. Perhaps it's not the 2 at all.

Maybe it's the PLAN B??