So anyway, I'm sitting at the bar at Max & Erma's on my third glass of wine trying to list as many words as I can that rhyme with "whore" when my hot 21-year-old lesbian friend Tara comes over and randomly says to me, "55. 67." So I write it down to decipher later because right now I only have 35, but wait, what about "eeyore," and isn't "azure" a color? Sure it is and that's 37. And "sure" is surely 38. And Duffy's singing "Rockferry" and two hot blondes sit in conversation at a table and two hot brunettes chat at the bar and Michelle is washing glasses and I check my cell and it's 7:59 PM.
And Steph's at the register, and she just recently broke up with Shawn and I think of Holly and Mike, who also broke up, and now Holly is in Johnstown living with her mom living with the dude who lived across the street from me growing up, briefly, until he was busted for armed bank robbery and served 20 years before meeting Holly's mom and I think, "Isn't it a small world after all?" as I start my fourth.
I sneeze and Tara and Michelle and Steph and the portly woman from West Virginia sitting next to me all say in unison "Bless you" and I think about Charlottesville & the research firm when Jim Witt sneezed and everyone said "Bless you" and Jim Witt responded in classic Jim Witt fashion: "Thank you, thank you very much! It's been a pleasure sneezing for you!" And now thoughts of Christine and Dana and Holly the Fed-Ex girl and Lisa Bistro and Rebecca the Russian Lit/Jefferson scholar and Dr. Milagros from Peru, oh, and what was that cute little blonde intern's name I took to the Monticello picnic? It was all so long ago but only a moment.
And now it's 8:18 PM and it's just me and the two hot brunettes and the two hot blondes and Michelle and Steph and Tara and her two ex-girlfriends, and this is a microcosm of my life, alone, surrounded by hot girls and lesbians. With Dave Matthews Band and "Crush" I segue from C'ville to Toledo and the courthouse babes and Packo's and Easy Street and jello shots at work at the end of the day. "Is it real or am I dreaming?" And Steph has changed into civilian clothes and Tara's now in purple to match her nails and Mraz and Caillat sing about being in love with their best friend and I have to go.
And Daughtry escorts me from Max & Erma's onto Stanwix and Michelle's smoking a cigarette and wishes me a goodnight and I hook a left on Penn and how many times have I taken this walk the past 18 months? All my haunts. They all know me down here, the Norm of Dahntahn. Paula at Bossa Nova, Ryan and Katelyn at Backstage Bar. I pass Blush, and I think of the night with Caitlyn from Alexander's and our run-in with her ex and the homeless guy looking on with deep concern but then asking us for money. Seviche with Jess and Nikki. Sonoma with Becky and Jessica and Sonoma Kelly, the hot babe daughter of the hottest of the Joe DiNardo girls, and again, what a small world. Finally Henry's with crazy Lisa smokin' ganja in the ladies room (her, not me) and of course Brandy and the Dylan show on my 39th birthday, the second best ever to my 40th , which was beyond compare. And then back to the Pennsylvanian, wasted on a Friday night for the, what, fiftieth? and final time and I think about the last year and a half – has it been that long?? -- and how it's encompassed both the worst and the best times of my life and I think, "yeah, life sure does suck sometimes, but all and all it's pretty damn good."
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