It was her big 21 Sunday. (Or as of midnight Saturday night which is when we were out at Mason's Pub)
In case anyone was wondering, I am usually in the bed by 9. 12 is late. Really late. Some might ask how I ever made it through the night.
Well, margaritas would be the answer my friends.
Happy Birthday Sarah Beara!
Also, silly straws, big plastic rings, and cheesy star shaped sunglasses.
![]() |
that is NOT my hairy arm, in case you were wondering |
I survived.
But barely.
Has anyone noticed it is always the nerdiest guys that buy all the girls drinks? They probably are making lotsa money and all these bar-frequenting-ladies are stealing it away...one Sex on the Beach shot at a time...
A little piece of my heart goes out to these boys every time I see this interaction happen:
NERDY BOY: sweaty palms, wrinkly button-up shirt "Wow! Is it your birthday?!"
BIRTHDAY GIRL: "Yeah!"
BIRTHDAY GIRL'S SISTER: "It's her big TWENTY-FIRST! Woooo!"
NERDY BOY: his eyes light up "Well, has anybody bought you a drink?"
BIRTHDAY GIRL: lying through her teeth but batting those eyelashes and smiling innocently "Not yet...I'm not really sure what kind to get."
NERDY BOY: grin "I'll get you one. And your friend!"
BIRTHDAY GIRL AND CUTE SISTER: give him their flirtiest smile and high five when he turns to the bartender with hope in his heart
goodbye $12 bucks
Maybe it works for them sometimes. Probably no. What a terrible relationship, abusive really.
As an old married lady who couldn't flirt if I wanted to, I think I will stick to wine and early bed time hours.
No comments:
Post a Comment